Full Circle
by ashesandhoney
Summary: This fic uses a rather obvious time travel plot line to drop William Herondale into the middle of Jem and Tessa's life in 2014. (This is a Herongraystairs fic). The most recent chapter is Will/Jem and is one of my favourites in the story.
1. So Far Apart

**AN: This is a multi-chapter fic that will be quite long before it is done. You can expect an update about once a week. Someone asked for shipping notes: I ship everyone with everyone and that will come out pretty strongly in this story. So yes, lots of Jessa - lots and lots of Jessa. There are also huge chunks of the story that are Heronstairs and Wessa so if there is a ship in this fandom that you hate you probably aren't going to like this.**

2014

Tessa had two phones. When the black one had rang out it did so with a snippet of a rap song in something other than English that played on electronic loop. Tessa looked up from what she was doing and sent her husband to deal with it. He answered it carefully. James Carstairs was tall and thin with a fall of dark brown hair and runes across the arches of his cheekbones. He picked up the phone and looked at the screen for a long moment before he swept a finger across the screen to unlock it and answer. He'd been a Shadowhunter once as had Tessa. They were both more complicated these days.

"Tessa Gray's phone, can I help you?" he said.

The second phone, the same model but in a case plastered with literary quotes and a background that was a picture of the two of them on a beach sat beside this one, silent. That was Tess Carstairs's phone and he wouldn't have been so careful answering it. It was the number that her friends called. The black phone's number went out to warlock contacts and people who might call with business. She claimed to have had the same number for the past 35 years.

"I had heard she'd gotten married but no, apparently she'd gone and gotten herself a secretary!" the voice on the other end of the phone was female and slightly accented though he couldn't immediately place where it was from. She spoke grandly and he imagined the arm waving that went with the pronouncement.

"She can't talk right now, can I give her a message?" Jem said ignoring everything else.

"The fuck she can't talk right now," the voice wasn't quite angry, it was almost jovial even through the swearing, "Put the hoity-toity bitch on the phone. Tell her it is Natasha and remind her that she fucking owes me. Can't talk. The fuck is that?"

Jem stood still and speechless. He considered his response before he spoke. Rather than getting angry he asked, "Hoity-toity?"

"Listen, Secretary," Natasha said, "I'm working on a very interesting project and I could use someone who can track spells and isn't an idiot. Your hoity-toity, fancy pants wife matches both those requirements. So go give the bitch the phone."

Tessa had appeared at his side while the profanity laced tirade was going on. She'd been elbow deep in some concoction in the spare room when she'd sent him to answer the phone and was still wiping the herb mixture off her arm. The hand towel looked like it had been used to kill something bloody and green. She raised her eyebrows at him. He turned the phone so she could see the display which was a photo of an orange haired warlock with curling horns and a toothy grin.

"Has she suggested anything anatomically impossible yet?" Tessa asked but she used Mandarin not English. When they'd been young he'd taught her the basics but in the years they had spent apart she'd mastered it. She spoke with an English accent but her vocabulary was broader than his: encompassing modern words that hadn't existed when he'd been a child speaking the language with his mother. The first time she'd had to explain a modern grammatical quirk that he had told her was an error, she'd been smug and teasing for days. Jem had found it adorable. Annoying but adorable.

"I can hear her, speaking in foreign tongues does not hide her voice. Listen, I can do it too," Natasha drawled in his ear before launching into a stream of something rapid and Eastern European though he couldn't place the language.

"Just insults," he answered Tessa still in Chinese. She smiled at him. Her green magic goo had gotten on her tank top and she wore a pair of very old, very tattered jeans. They had long dried paint on them that matched the kitchen walls. They'd been the ones to do the painting when they'd moved in. He found it hard to care about Natasha and her very interesting project when Tessa's shirt had slipped up and left her hip bare. They'd been married five years and she could still reduce him to a distracted boy with a crush with just a hint of skin. Sometimes all it took was her presence in the room to draw his attention from everything else.

"A good secretary passes on the phone, asshole," Natasha said and he finally held it out to Tessa who rolled her eyes but took it.

"What did you call him?" she said a soon as the phone was up to her ear. Her voice was all annoyance and anger but her expression wasn't nearly so hostile. Her face broke into a smile and Jem was left to wonder at this friend who was allowed to call Tessa by names like hoity-toity bitch and it could make her smile. He understood it. His best friend had called him bastard almost as often as he'd called him by his given name and after all these years just those memories could make his heart hurt a little.

"Want to go to Venice?" she asked him shaking him out of his own memories.

"The one in California or the one in Italy?" he asked.

"Italy," she answered.

"Anywhere and everywhere," he said. "We haven't been to Italy yet."

"No, Nat," Tessa said to the phone, "He's non-negotiable and you know that other people can't do what I can do," a pause that Jem imagined was full of swearing. Tessa gave a careless shrug that Nat couldn't see, "That's your decision."

Tessa was still arguing in that soft authoritative voice that she had learned from Charlotte Fairchild decades before. Most people crumbled under the force of that voice but Nat didn't seem to be wavering.

They stood in the kitchen of their apartment in New York. The phones were plugged in on a little shelf that was easy to walk by on the way from the front door. Tessa made an exasperated noise and left the room. If she weren't barefoot the action might have counted as stomping.

The living room was sunken below the kitchen and entrance way to allow for 12 feet of east facing windows on one wall and 12 feet of bookshelves on two others. There were stairs on either side but Tessa vaulted the railing that separated the upper hall from the lower and he heard her hit the sofa below with a soft thump. Jem followed her but didn't jump down. He leaned on the rail and looked out at the view. New York spread out around and below them. The rising sun heated this room intolerably on summer mornings but it was late afternoon now and the buildings were awash in bright light.

He'd been born in a world that didn't get this high. The first true skyscrapers didn't rise until after he'd joined the Silent Brothers and left the world and its inexorable march of progress behind. Sometimes the vertigo would catch up to him. When it did, he went and leaned against the glass and steel balcony with its now decimated herb garden and stare straight down. It didn't always chase the vertigo away but it was such a human feeling - such an alive feeling - that he didn't really care. He challenged the fear and the feeling of falling and always came away the winner.

"Did she agree?" Jem asked when Tessa clicked off the phone. The couch was green and old fashioned like something they might have had if they'd been married when they had intended back in 1878. Tessa tilted her head back. The cat, curled in a ball on the matching arm chair across the room, opened one yellow eye and surveyed them both as though calculating his chances of getting out of this without having to travel. He was old - very old - and grumpy but was a terror to leave at shelters or with friends so he usually got dragged along with them which made him only moderately less of a terror.

"Not really but she gave up fighting with me," Tessa said.

"That's almost like winning an argument," Jem said. "It's how Will used to win all of his."

"That's not true," Tessa said.

"It's almost true," he said. "It was very true when he was fifteen."

"That I will concede. Go pack," she said laughing. Some days, Will was just a piece of their past. Other days, talking about Will could leave them both grief struck and clinging together.

Today was the former and Jem was thankful for it. He couldn't imagine having weathered the loss of Will with all his emotions intact if he didn't have her. Will had died while he was a Silent Brother. He hadn't felt the force of that loss until a lifetime later. He couldn't imagine how she had done it. He leaned forward and reached out a hand. She climbed onto the sofa back and took it to balance herself before she kissed him. She was the strong one, that had always been true. He kissed her again.

"Pack," she said. "I'll get us a hotel."

"Will I like Venice?" he asked.

"I've never been," she said which made him smile. He liked her little tours when they found themselves somewhere she had been before. She knew the stories and she picked out the landmarks. It was nice but he loved the chance to discover a place together.

"I'm going to pack right this instant," he said before she could tell him again but he pulled her in and kissed her one more time. She smelled of her herb mix but tasted of coffee and something sweet. Her smile was soft and happy when he pulled away. He really didn't care what Natasha's big project was. It didn't matter. They were going together. That was the important part.

Chapter 2: So Far Apart

Chapter Text

1878

Cool summer rain ticked against the library windows but a fire kept the room where William Herondale was not reading warm. He sat by the fire, though really it was too warm for it, and held a book of poetry as though he were engrossed in every word. Black hair fell forward around his face, it needed to be cut but he just hadn't had the time or the energy for it. It obscured his vision which was a problem in a fight but something of an asset at the moment.

He wasn't alone in the room. Gideon sat at one of the table cleaning weapons. Charlotte would purse her lips and tell him that they had a weapons room for that purpose but he hadn't yet been caught at it. Gideon was silent except for the clink of blades as he moved them around on the mat he'd spread over the table. Destroying the surface of the table with nicks and smears of ichor would get him in real trouble.

Will's self preservation failed and he looked up. His hair was in the way but at the other end of the table Jem and Tessa were visible leaned together over a spread of papers. All her attention was on him as it so often was when they were together. She was concentrating with a tiny frown line between her eyebrows. Will dropped his attention back to the words on his page.

They were so happy.

He wanted them to be happy. He needed them to be happy. But neither wanting it nor needing it stopped them from breaking his heart a little more with every soft laugh.

Jem was explaining how pronunciation differences could change a word's meaning in Chinese and she was struggling with it. For Jem, language was music and he could talk about sound for hours. For Tessa, language was meaning and Will could see when she lost the thread of what he was saying and got frustrated again. He dropped his eyes again.

He would not watch them.

His attention flicked up again and he forced it back to the book.

If he got up, he could sit down on Tessa's other side and fill in the gaps that Jem was unintentionally leaving. He'd learned the language the same way, listening to Jem and his music metaphors and he could help it make sense for her. Jem would tell stories about Will's failures and successes and she'd laugh. They'd make room for him in their little circle.

But then, then he'd have to sit there, right beside her. Right beside her but so far apart. She would smile at him, listen to him and then turn her unwavering attention back to Jem. His heart hurt just to imagine it.

He closed his book and stood up without actually deciding what he was going to do. He was either going to cross the room and make some comment and drop himself into that chair or he was going to run. His feet, without a conscious decision from his head, marched him right out the door of the library. Jem called something after him and he tossed back a joke that he didn't remember later.

He ran away to hide and let his heart be broken where no one else could see it.

His feet hit the wet pavement and he pulled his hat down more securely over his too long hair and headed out into the London night. His plan was simple, walk until he was too tired to think. It would be easy. Perhaps he'd come home after Cecily had gone to bed and avoid having to argue about writing a letter home as well. He wouldn't be able to have that argument like this. He wouldn't be able to remember all the reasons why and he would get snappish.

The rain was warm and just heavy enough that it soaked through his suit jacket. Will walked down toward the river, glamoured and moving fast. It was late and rainy but not enough of either to stop the people. The streets weren't quite empty. He passed police officers in bell shaped hats and urchin children in doorways without anywhere else to go. A pair of them huddled out of the rain, a boy and a girl, in the entrance to the storeroom of a closed bakery.

Will glanced down the dreary road and then leaned over them and drew a rune near the lock. He pushed it open a crack and continued on. The law was the law but he'd been that pitiful and hungry for just a few days on his trip from Wales to Institute as a child. A few days was enough to be memorable. He was invisible to them. It was just an improperly shut lock. No one had to know.

At the river side, Will looked down at the stinking Thames. Its surface was pocked with the rain that fell heavier now. He was wet and miserable.

"Must you wallow?" some voice in his head asked. It might have been Jem's but it wasn't something Jem would say. Magnus perhaps. Magnus would tell him that. So would Cecily if she knew but thankfully she didn't. Tessa was his secret. He knew. She knew. Magnus knew. How much he loved her was still a secret to everyone else. Some days he felt almost normal but those were the days where he managed to not see her. If he saw her, his heart all fell to pieces.

He whirled away from the river and took off at a run. He had nowhere to go but getting there as quickly as possible was suddenly essential. Any part of him that wasn't already drenched was soaked by the water spray from his feet pounding into the puddles in the cobbles. Filth and water and his hat was gone somewhere.

He rounded a corner and was brought up short by a glow. The street ahead of him was lit like a summer afternoon. He pushed his hair back with both hands and it slicked to his head before the rain started pushing it back towards his face again. Bright summer sunshine made him squint. The street ahead looked dry. Water streamed into his eyes as the sky opened up and he stared at this gap in the world.

The light was getting stronger. He pulled a blade out of a wrist sheath he had worn more out of habit than an expectation of running into trouble. It glinted where it was held low as he inched forward into the building light.

The street he had been able to make out details of a moment ago was being swallowed in light. Blurring and vanishing.

The light pushed towards him. Brighter and closer.

He adjusted his grip on his knife. He would have retreated if it hadn't happened so fast.

The light expanded.

It pressed in against him with a gentle weight like a heavy blanket.

It wrapped him up and swallowed him whole before he had a chance to move.

Then it winked out.

The London street was dark and wet again. The light, the dry street within it and the boy with the dripping hair were all gone. A passing carriage carrying a family home to their warm dry home trampled a gentleman's hat where it had rolled into a puddle.


	2. Getting Lost

**AN: as requested: shipping notes: this is a total Jessa chapter**

Tessa had a plan but she looked up from the page where it was written out when Jem brushed his shoulder against her's. Jem's hand was warm when he reached out and took the piece of paper with the hotels and maps and transit routes all written out on it. She watched as he folded it and then tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. Every once in awhile she found herself surprised that he wore jeans and running shoes. He'd been a very proper gentleman once and in her mind's eye she still saw him in starched collars and jackets not yellow t-shirts.

"Or we go that way," he pointed past her shoulder at a high arched stone bridge that crossed the canal in front of the train station. There were stops for the water buses lined up along the edge of the water with their maps and their routes in bright colours. Modern ticket machines and vendors selling masks and trinkets completed the circus around the station. It marred the view of the little shops and restaurants across the water. The practicalities of the modern world getting in the way of the photo opportunity.

"I have to meet Nat at four," she said.

"That's," he paused to check his watch and his hair fell into his eyes for a moment. She pushed it back, running the streak of silver between her fingers as he said, "Three hours. Three hours to go that way. Let's get lost."

Tessa was worried about Nat's project, worried about working with the type of warlocks Nat might have found, worried about all the things she didn't know. He didn't give any hint that he could tell but here he was giving her exactly the kind of distraction she needed. Without saying it, he was telling her to let the work wait and take the time for something fun. Her smile got wider.

"You lead," she said leaning close enough to bump her shoulder against his. He grinned back and pulled her forward and into the warren of twisting streets and little shops. They stopped at the top of the bridge and Jem leaned over to look at the canal below as the water bus they were meant to be on pulled into the stop. The water was opaque and greenish with little bits of trash floating by. It wasn't quite the magic of a brochure.

Bridges always made her think of Jem. In a hundred and thirty six years, she hadn't crossed a bridge without a flicker of thought turning to him. He turned back to her about to say something and she met whatever comment he was about to make with a kiss.

They'd come down from where the portal let them out just outside the Idris border by train. Tessa would be using magic to summon their luggage down later so for a few hours they had nothing but time and each other. Jem laced his fingers with hers and pulled her forward.

* * *

><p>Tessa sat with her back to the sunshine and drank her coffee very slowly. Jem was talking about the strange mix of modernity and history in the city as he idly watched the people walking by. His tone of voice told her that he liked the city a lot.<p>

He had his feet and their battered blue sneakers stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He had worn those shoes on five continents so far. He was all long angles and Tessa caught other people looking. She didn't blame them. She watched him more than anyone else did and didn't think she'd ever tire of it.

He was kinetic today, sometimes he got so still it reminded her of his years as a Silent Brother but today he was all motion. He talked with his hands and his face was animated as he told her about a story he'd heard of a London shop that had been in the same place for more than 500 years.

She watched his eyes get drawn away and then they snapped back to her and she raised her eyebrows as she saw long legs and very short shorts pass them. She tilted her head to watch and the woman looked back briefly before she turned a corner with her friends.

"I think she liked you," Tessa said leaning over the table like it was a secret to be whispered between school girls. Jem shook his head and waved it off. Just the hint of a blush. He never noticed. Ever.

The runes across his cheeks that he was so self conscious about did little to deter admirers and probably caught him just a touch more attention than he might otherwise find himself with. She wondered sometimes how many people had fallen in love with him while he wasn't paying attention. Sophie had and there was a man who worked at the medical clinic where Jem volunteered who watched him in a way that wasn't just curiosity at having an ex-Silent Brother helping with diagnoses. When they'd met, Tessa had been the one who hadn't noticed. She'd fallen hard and fast but had been so distracted by Will that she hadn't even seen it.

"No, really, she did. Do you think I should get shorts like that?" she asked. She was teasing him and couldn't keep the smile off her face and it ruined her attempt at a serious tone.

Above them a breeze ruffled the awning they sat beneath and Jem was cast in shadow for a moment while he tried to decide what to say to that comment. As the awning fell back into place and he sat in sunshine, he considered her with a much better serious expression. He steepled his fingers and looked at her over them.

"You can wear anything you like," he said.

"Oh, I know, Mr. Politician," she said still teasing. "I'm looking for an opinion not permission."

"Then yes, in my opinion you should get shorts like that, though maybe not in such bright green," he said and she laughed and added that detail to a mental list.

They left the coffee shop not long after that. Hand in hand, they wound back towards St. Marks square to walk by the Doge's Palace. The crowds got thicker and the languages mixed into that strange Tower of Babel drone that swirled around tourist sites. Tessa picked out German and English, French and Japanese, Arabic and Spanish, and of course Italian. A tour guide with a gaudy flower on a long pole trooped by leading a pack of teenagers in matching t-shirts declaring them members of some exchange program. June in St. Mark's square was not particularly restful.

Jem stopped in the flow of the traffic.

The man behind him knocked his shoulder and muttered a curse in a language that Tessa didn't catch. She grabbed Jem's elbow and pulled him to the side. He blinked slowly at her. They stood in front of a shop selling Murano glass figurines that twinkled in a riot of colours beneath tiny spotlights. The crowd wove on around them, oblivious now that they were out of the flow.

"Jem?" she asked.

He had fallen still. All of his animation and energy drained away leaving him a statue. His eyes moved back and forth as though he were reading something confusing. She put a hand on his chest in part to get his attention and in part because the stillness was so complete it scared her. His heartbeat was fast but steady under her palm and he was warm. He felt normal. Her tension didn't ease. The expression on his face wasn't normal.

"Jem?" she asked again.

"I don't feel right," he said.

"What do you need?" she asked.

He covered her hand with his own. She never thought of her hands as small until he had them in his. He brought their hands higher to rest at his collarbone. She found the place by touch and spread her palm against it and waited for him to calm.

The mixture of sadness and relief that washed through her was dizzying. Jem's memories took him over sometimes. A memory would ricochet off of some tiny detail in a crowd or a shop window and suddenly he'd be swimming in things he hadn't known he'd forgotten. He explained it sometimes once it had passed: the flashbacks and the emotions that overpowered the present moment with a rush of things long gone. The magics of the Silent Brothers had buried so much that even years after leaving them it could still take him over.

Beneath their hands was his parabatai rune. Grey and faded but never gone. Something had brought Will back to him with enough force to stagger him. She cupped his face with her other hand and he leaned towards her. She whispered to him, nothing important, just words to guide him back through his own memories to her. Little shared memories of the three of them. They stood like that as he came back to himself.

"That wasn't normal," he said in a low voice.

"Tell me," she hadn't let go of him yet and she wouldn't until she was sure that he was feeling better.

"It felt right," he said, "I don't usually remember it like that. It's usually not so physical. I felt it."

She wrapped her arms around him and he stood in her embrace awkwardly for a moment before he returned it, looping his arms around her and holding on.

Later, when she left him at the hotel, he was still quiet. He was himself but not happy. Leaving him alone when he was like that was difficult but she'd promised Natasha that she wouldn't be late.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he assured her that he was fine but there was something lost and empty about him. Against the bland colours and generic art of the hotel room, he seemed less like himself than an artist's rendition of him. A rendition done by an artist who had never met him. She wanted to stay until the sparkling, joking Jem was back again but he insisted over and over that it wasn't necessary.

He almost had to push push her out the door but in the end she left him alone to disappear into his own memories. Her last glimpse of him before she closed the door was of him rubbing that gray mark with his palm.


	3. Very Wrong

**AN: No shipping notes on this chapter - it's just Will by himself, poor Will. **

The overwhelming pressure broke and nausea rolled through Will so strongly he had to catch the wall as he retched up the remains of his dinner. He looked down at the flagstones and swore.

The light was wrapped around him now. It was mid afternoon. It had to be mid afternoon. He shook rain water out of his hair and looked around. He was in a sunny square with little sets of tables set outside of wide awnings with placards hanging beside them. It was too clean and too warm to be London even if he didn't know that it was well after sunset in London.

He turned in a slow circle.

The sun was warm and high. He'd stepped through some sort of portal and was somewhere else. He could estimate Europe by the architecture. Southern France perhaps? He let himself do some calculations, France wasn't too far away. It wouldn't be too difficult to get home from France. If a little voice in his mind reminded him that it was night in France as well, he chose not to hear it.

He straightened his ruined jacket and considered his boots which were wet enough to squelch when he took a few steps out of the alley mouth he was standing in. He didn't sheathe his blade but he kept it tucked up in his sleeve where it wouldn't be visible to anything coming to see what had stepped through their trap.

In the middle of the square was a group of children playing a game. They kicked a ball and shouted to one another. Adults checked on them over their shoulders as they stood and talked in a loose knot nearby. Nobody wore anything that Will could consider fashion. Short pants on men, skirts that weren't just scandalously short but unreasonably so. He looked over each person in the square searching for some note of a themed party or some other explanation. No one was bothered.

"Perhaps not France," he said aloud trying to find something else to look at than that ridiculously large amount of skin.

A child in the middle of the game - wearing a boy's short pants and bare legs - stared at him. Long hair tied back with a purple band seemed to hint at the child being a girl but the fashion confused the impression. Will looked back at her. She left her friends and came towards him. He drew no other attention which meant he was still glamoured. She had the sight.

Will sheathed his blade entirely. She couldn't be a demon in broad daylight and he didn't really want to scare children by looking like a drowned rat and waving weaponry around. She had dark hair and light brown skin and frowned at him before saying something in a rapid fire tongue. Her shirt had the word principessa written across it in shimmering letters.

"Ne pas parlez francais," Will butchered the language. He knew he butchered the language but it had always seemed such a silly thing to try and learn. Jessamine had wanted to learn French and so Will had resisted it just to be difficult. He regretted that choice now. Two dialects of Purgatic, Sanskrit and Latin, Chinese and a decent amount of Greek and here he was incapable of asking for directions in French because he had thrown a tantrum when he was 14.

"I-ta-li-an-o," the child emphasized each syllable as though he were very stupid. Then he must appear very stupid, shouldn't he know which language to use when visiting a country?

"Ma-ca-ro-ni," Will said with the same exaggerated pronunciation because he didn't know a word of Italian. The child laughed at him and then said whatever she had said the first time slower and then mimed swimming.

"I did not go for a swim," he told her with a shrug. His eyes were scanning the crowd around him. Something had brought him here and he didn't want to be snuck up on if it decided to make an appearance. He pulled off his jacket and wrung it out. The shirt underneath clung uncomfortably and his feet were wet and he wanted to know what the hell was going on. All the surliness he had cultivated during his years of being cursed rose to the surface and he had to bite back nasty things that almost escaped from his mouth. The girl wouldn't understand but that didn't mean that it was proper to mouth off to her.

He was pulling his still wet jacket back on when the little girl's eyes grew round and looked at something over his shoulder. He grimaced and sighed before unsheathing both blades at his wrists and turning to look. He stepped out so that he was between the child and whatever made her whisper, "Mostro."

It was a warlock. He stood a little shorter than Will but had great arching batwings tucked in at his back. His face was pale and plain with reddish hair and brown eyes. He wore heavy blue trousers and a shirt with a symbol on the front. His eyes traveled over Will's soggy clothing and dripping hair and his lip very nearly curled in disgust.

Will's hair was long enough that it obscured his neck and he twisted his right hand so that the voyance rune was out of the warlock's line of site. He wouldn't be immediately identifiable as Nephilim if the warlock didn't know exactly what he was looking for.

"Welcome to Venice," the warlock said in English and Will would have been grateful for it if there'd been space in his black mood for gratefulness.

"Thank you," Will kept himself between the warlock and the girl though he didn't find Batwings to be much of a threat. He managed to temper the sarcasm a little when he asked, "Do you happen to know how I got to be in Venice?"

"You stepped through a portal," the warlock told him.

"That's very descriptive and detailed information," Will sneered. "Thank you for clarifying."

"You need to come with me, we'll help you get home," he said reaching out a hand as though he were going to help Will into some nonexistent carriage. Nothing about him was reassuring and Will could feel the prickle of magic in the air.

"There is nothing to be worried about," the warlock said. Will's sense of unease sharpened. It wasn't just being treated like a mundane, there was something about the warlock that made him worry. He glanced down at the girl but she had already scampered back to her parents and was trying to tell them what she had seen in the alley. She stamped her tiny feet and pulled on her mother's wrist and pointed but the adults could see nothing. That was good considering what he intended to do next.

"I don't think I believe you, but I do thank you for the offer of assistance," Will said pleasantly.

The warlock frowned and his wings flexed. It was a more obvious tell than a poker player with an itchy nose. Will didn't attack though a part of him wanted to. A fight with this many mundanes around would be a terrible idea. There would be collateral damage he would never be able to justify to the Clave. He turned and ran. His squelching boots were going to leave blisters the size of small countries but he was still a Shadowhunter and he was fast.

Venice was a city of canals but the first few alleys he wove through were blessedly without dead ends nor drops into water. He did not want to get wetter than he already was.

He dashed over a footbridge and stepped into a tiny shop on the other side selling brightly coloured satchels and bags. It smelled of leather and soap. He glanced out the glass in the door and watched for pursuit. The clerk in the shop looked confused but didn't see him. She had a little square of something in her hand and her attention dropped back to it.

Once he was sure that the warlock had lost him he glanced around the shop and looked up at the bright lanterns set in the ceiling. They looked like witchlight but brighter. He frowned at them and considered removing the glamour to ask the shop girl what they were. Henry would have stopped but Will had more pressing concerns like being stranded in a foreign country without money or assistance. He was going to end up sleeping in a doorway like those poor children back in London.

He looked up at the odd lamps one last time and then stepped back into the street where Italians apparently wore as little clothing as they could. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen that much of another person's body. He knew he had never seen that much of a woman's body as much as he might pretend otherwise.

His glamour rendered him invisible but if he needed to remove it, he would immediately stand out in this crowd. He tried not to look at the people. Skin everywhere and hairstyles that were bizarre. In a window of a shop selling glass and jewelry and lit by that same strange too-bright light, he caught sight of his hair drying to an unruly mass and grimaced at it.

Italy was close to Idris. Perhaps he could lie his way onto a train and get through the mountains. From Alicante it wasn't so difficult to get back to London. He was lost in these thoughts when his path opened out to a pedestrian road that ran parallel to a wide canal filled with boats. There were the gondolas and row boats he had expected but a steamboat pulled into a wide covered metal dock labeled in yellow and black and something about it caught his attention.

There was something wrong with it. It unloaded passengers and reloaded new ones and it pulled away from the dock. A ferry. Not so unusual in a city full of canals. But the size and the shape and the lack of funnel or waterwheel or sail was wrong. A smaller boat pushed by a tiny engine on the back swerved out from the moorings at the edge of the walkway. Engines were not that small, not unless they ran on magic and being so close to Idris made Northern Italy one of the most mundane places in the world. Downworld avoided living in the Shadowhunter's back garden. They certainly wouldn't be out in public with enchanted engines this close to the border.

Now that the sense of unease was there his mind started to assemble the picture.

There was no one wearing proper clothing. It wasn't a quirk of the city or the country. A group of young women walked by him speaking in American accents and he knew that American girls didn't dress like that. The strange lights were in every shop. There were shops selling things he didn't recognize. He hadn't looked closely but now he did, going back and really looking. The music coming from the cafe he had passed wasn't coming from a band he couldn't see in the back. There were advertisements and signs that featured such accurate depictions of people they couldn't be either paintings or daguerreotypes.

He saw a large photo frame in the wall of a public house where the pictures moved. He walked right up to it and touched the glass and it felt smooth and normal but while his hand was there the image switched to show a man in an unfashionable but appropriate suit who spoke in Italian. Will stumbled back from it and bumped into a table where the two patrons looked up from their sloshed drinks and glared but still couldn't see him. The frame was not a window but he checked anyway before moving back into the road.

He found an empty bit of wall and leaned back so that he had the security of warm stone behind him. He took long, slow breaths.

Something was very, very wrong.

* * *

><p>As night approached, Will found a tall thin building to break into and made his way to the rooftop. He was able to look down over the city as night fell. There were parts of the streets that were lit as bright as they had been below the late afternoon sun and others disappeared into twisting shadows.<p>

He sat in the sun and ate a plate of stolen pasta that he had simply lifted from the tray of a very confused waiter. It tasted good if a little too garlicky. The plate balanced on his knee and he ate with stolen cutlery as he sat so he could see both the street below and the entrance to the apartment block beside him. He watched the gas lamps below him flick on without anyone to light them. They didn't glow with a lantern flame, they glared with that sharp blue white light he'd seen in the stores. It was not witchlight but that was the closest approximation he had.

He had spent the afternoon collecting wrongness.

There was a lot to find. He was not anywhere near home but as far as he could tell it was all mundane. There was no magic in those lights be it angelic, demonic or otherwise. The growling engines in the boats that puttered by in the canal below him did not run on steam but neither did they run on magic. It might have been easier to understand if it were magic. If he wasn't half convinced he'd crossed into a demonic dimension, he might have made notes for Henry.

Will pulled open a few buttons on his shirt which had dried stiff but it had survived the rain better than either his shoes or his trousers. He put his hand over the rune on his chest but didn't look for a long time. The pasta congealed on the roof ledge in front of him before he opened his eyes and found the parabatai rune where it had always been and as it always been. Black and strong against his skin.

"Where the hell are you?" he asked Jem though he knew there was no way for Jem to hear him.

"Where the hell am I?" he wondered aloud because if the rune was still there, Jem was still there and if Jem was still there, he hadn't crossed into some demon realm. He hadn't died and gone to the strangest version of hell imaginable.

He watched the sun sink down in a blaze of yellow and orange with his hand over that space on his chest. It wasn't until night had fallen completely that he stood, leaving his dinner for whatever chose to find it, and went to find a corner that was defensible enough that he could sleep.

* * *

><p>It was the sound of scrabbling claws that woke Will from his doze. He snapped up, disoriented but awake. The night was not dark. The lights below made it easy enough to see. He still scrawled a night vision rune into his arm as he climbed silently to his feet. The shadows that the street lamps could not chase away resolved into lines and shapes and then objects. The door, the ledge, the vents, the thing that looked like a shallow metal bowl aimed at the sky, all these things were visible but none of them explained the noise.<p>

He silently cursed himself for not bringing more weapons when he'd left the Institute. He had only two short knives in his wrist sheathes. He traded the stele for one and left his other hand free so that he could climb up onto the enclosure where the door let out and get a better look around.

Nothing.

The noise of claws on stone came again and he whirled toward it to find nothing but shadows. Will closed his eyes and listened. It wasn't late, he'd barely had a chance to do more than doze and the sounds of the street below were the first thing he heard. Conversations, music from somewhere, water, footsteps. He cleared everything else out of his mind. He pushed out the thoughts of Jem and the worries about half naked people wandering the streets as though it were normal and how one got out of Italy without mundane money. He pushed out the thoughts of Tessa that were never far away.

He listened.

The scrape of claws came again and this time when he moved, he moved sure and fast. The thing that scraped its talons over the centuries old stone on the roof top was more shadow than form but runed daggers were almost as effective as seraph blades. Will was swinging both knives by the time he got close to it and the blades bit into flesh that swirled in an absence of light.

It shrieked and lashed out with front paws. Will caught a glimpse of red eyes as he rolled away, still slashing. Some of what he hit was just shadow. He struck muscle on what might have been a hind leg. Dog like. It was dog like when it lunged at him with its jaw wide and its eyes like glowing blood pools. It was less dog like as it exploded into black mist and ichor.

Will swore at the mess as the demon vanished.

He was climbing back to his feet when the next one hit him in the shoulder and sent him spinning back to the ground. He got a dagger up but dropped it when teeth closed on his forearm. His last thoughts were scrambled as venom of some sort caused his head to spin. Stabbing with the second knife he caught the thing in it's shoulder but it wasn't a killing blow.

He lost consciousness as red eyes hovered above him.


	4. Stormbreaker

**AN: Thank you to those who took the time to leave a note or a review! I appreciate them and I am glad so many people enjoy this story. **

Tessa's thoughts were still on Jem as she followed Natasha through the streets. Natasha was all bright energy and orange hair. She was excited about the project though she was extremely cagey with details. She didn't want to give anything away as though it were a surprise gift.

"Just wait until you meet Dmitri, he's incredible," Natasha had said as she took Tessa's arm and hurried her along. It had led to teasing about what incredible meant that left Natasha blushing in a way that was more bashful than Tessa ever imagined her to be.

They'd met at the train station just as the sun started to sink and now they passed through deepening shadows as the sun lit the sky above them in oranges and pinks. The glimpses of the canals reflecting sunset were heart-stopping and crossing one foot bridge, Tessa did stop to stare out at it.

Venice was a fantasy city.

Natasha led her away from that fantasy ideal and into the parts of the city that were all crumbling grandeur. They stopped at a boarded up church. Natasha struck an infomercial pose and Tessa raised both eyebrows at her. It was a huge structure made of white stone and rising to a dome that had once been painted white but was now peeling. A pair of angels stood over the doors their faces had been worn down and their robes were dirt streaked.

"This is it?" Tessa asked.

"This is headquarters," Nat said. She'd been talking the entire time. She had told Tessa about the warlock team that was working on the project, about her newest boyfriend, about her apartment in Moscow - a city she'd vowed once to never return to. She told her everything but what the project actually was, claiming it needed to be seen to be explained.

"Is it structurally sound?" Tessa asked tilting her head back to take in the massive facade. It was impressive and Tessa tried to imagine how it had looked in its heyday when it had been brand new and Venice had been the seat of culture and trade for half the Mediterranean.

"Don't be a ninny, of course it is structurally sound," Natasha said. Nat had learned English decades before and she'd spent months working on idioms and figures of speech that she couldn't shake now. She still spoke with slang that had started going out of fashion in the 1930s.

They didn't enter through the grand front doors. They were sealed shut. Instead, Natasha led the way into a deeply shadowed alley where Tessa had to keep her eyes down to step around puddles and rubbish that had gathered in the narrow space. A slogan was sprayed across the wall in red paint but it was so slang-laden that Tessa couldn't decipher it even though she spoke passable Italian. The side door of the church swung open to spill yellow electric light into the narrow space.

Inside smelled of damp and the white paint on the walls was stained yellow in some places with water damage. The light came from uncovered bulbs set in intervals along the ceiling and they cast harsh light. Tessa followed Natasha down the hall to a set of double doors that she assumed led to the nave. This space was all offices, some still had their labels in place on the doors. They passed a bulletin board with a poster up with bible study times from the 1950s listed in faded careful handwriting.

Pushing into the nave Tessa was momentarily struck by the size of the place. It was far larger than she had thought. The dome rose high above them and a marble floor stretched out in all directions. No longer polished and shining as it must have been once but it was still impressive beneath a layer of grime. Jesus still hung from the cross over the altar though someone had given him a hat and a scarf. All the stained glass windows were covered from the outside to prevent them from being broken. It had even worked in a few places. All other evidence that this space had been a church and been stripped away and piled in the corners.

"Stormy!" a voice called.

Tessa was smiling before she'd turned all the way around. The warlock who wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted was smaller than she was but still strong enough to get her off her feet. He had that corn-fed blustery look about him that screamed "farm boy" though he held an advanced degree in obscure poetry and would probably have difficulty differentiating horses from cows without a diagram. His eyes were round as tennis balls and almost as large. They were also sky blue from lid to lid. He grinned with teeth that had obviously had expensive meetings with orthodontics in their youth.

"Frankie," she said when he dropped her back on the ground. His name was Charles Hamilton. Like Stormy, Frankie was a nickname. He was named for some singer who had been known as Old Blue Eyes. Tessa had missed most of the pop-culture from that era and always mixed up which one.

"How are you darling, still in that smelly old Labyrinth?" Frank asked in a British accent that was best described as posh.

"Not these days," she said. "What are you doing in Italy? I thought civilized people didn't cross the channel."

"Expanding my horizons, I have this ancient friend who tells me that the world is too big to spend your life in one city," he said.

"Ancient?" she said smiling. Frank was young by warlock standards - less than 50 - and had had the most atypical of warlock upbringings. No attempted drownings, no attempted exorcisms, lots of toys, braces, a university education. His parents had been solidly upper class and had always ignored the weird things that happened around him and pretended that the eyes were just a quirk. He still visited his mother at Christmas and Easter.

"Ah, the Stormbreaker, over a hundred years old but not ancient," he said.

"I'm not ancient," she said. She had spent time with warlocks well over 500. She knew a few who had seen a millennium turn though none of them were particularly well adjusted any more. That Frank still thought a century was old was quaint and she resisted the urge to pat his cheek and say something condescending.

Frank had an arm around her shoulder and was drawing her farther into the church. The pews had all been stacked against the walls, except for one that someone had dragged free and was sleeping on with a sweater draped over their horned head. The space was full of folding tables. Papers and books were stacked in haphazard piles. Computer screens blinked. At the back, near the doors that she had seen from the outside were large spell circles carved into the floor. They shimmered but the magic wasn't doing much more than hovering over the lines in the stone like low lying fog.

"Does the consecrated ground affect the spells?" she asked trying to reopen the question of what the hell was going on.

"Deconsecrated church, doesn't matter," Natasha said.

"So are you going to tell me what it does?" she asked.

The answer was interrupted by a man with massive bat wings stomping in from another door on the other side of the building. Both Natasha and Frankie turned to look. He was plain looking except for the wings and the scowl. His wings stretched and snapped back in a motion that reminded Tessa of someone clenching their fists or perhaps a cat's swishing tail.

"Where's the Arrival?" Natasha asked.

"Chauncey and Elsa are out looking for him," the warlock growled and turned on Tessa with a cold look, "Are you Natasha's oh so useful friend? The Stormbreaker."

The contempt he put onto the name might have been offensive if Tessa didn't agree that it was absurd. She pulled up a smile and tilted her head to the side as though considering him carefully. It was a look she'd stolen from Will more than a century before. He used to use it in Clave meetings because it was not actually mocking but it was so very close.

"Tessa is fine. Nobody but this lot," she waved her hand at Natasha and Frankie, "has called me Stormbreaker in 30 years. It was a brand name back when the market at La Miroir was going through a theme park stage. Marcelline thought dramatic names would drum up business."

"Is it true?" the warlock said without introducing himself.

"That Marcelline thought nicknames would bring in business? Yes, she did think that," Tessa said and the scowl deepened. She sighed and answered the question he had meant to ask, "I can track a spell back to the caster," she said. "It is imperfect but yes, I am a breaker, that's true."

Among warlocks there are only a very few things considered to be impossible and to be a true spell breaker was one of them. Tessa watched the skepticism cross his face. Her smile widened but it also got colder. Next would come the demand for proof.

She had had this conversation many times since she'd discovered by accident in 1917 that the magic that allowed her to find the spark of ownership in an object and change into another person could also be used on spells.

She'd held a music box in her hand and reached for the change and found something different. She hadn't found a spark of ownership. She had found a glowing filament that traced back to the owner of a spell that had been cast on the box long ago. The spell hadn't been anything dangerous. It simple changed the song that the box played depending on who was holding it. She had seen much more dangerous magics since.

It had taken years to learn how to use it but she had found eventually that if she followed that filament far enough back she could snap it. Once it had been snapped, the spell broke. It was impossible magic for anyone else. She didn't advertise it much these days. Like the details of her ability to Change, she kept it a near secret.

"Prove it," the warlock said.

"Travis, she can do it," Natasha said. "Would I lie to you?"

"I want to see," he crossed the room and picked up a metal sphere from a cluttered table. Some of the instruments were things that Tessa recognized but many of them were arcane and indecipherable. There were devices that could track magical fields. These looked like dowsing rods with extra prongs. A compass with a heavy brass case that she knew could be use to measure the strength of a spell sat beside a tall thing with the glass balls hanging on long strings that was completely new to her.

Travis handed her the ball and she looked away from the collection to hold it up in the light and get a good look. Plain, silver, a seam running around the middle and it was heavier than it should have been for its size. She passed it hand to hand a few times and considered how much to show off. Travis was looking at her with his eyebrow up and that little sneer tilting the corner of his lip. Superiority and arrogance in every line of his face.

He was just asking for the show.

She smiled in spite of her mood.

When she'd been working at the market she'd been told to make magic a show because it would keep people coming back. That La Miroir had a larger mundane clientele than they let on was a big part of that. Tessa's years in the Clave often left her with a deep unease about using magic among mundanes but the years in La Miroir had been part of one of her more rebellious stages and the risk had almost been a a relief after years of doing as the Clave said.

She held the ball between her hands and reached into it with magic. Once this had felt like groping in the dark but now it was as easy as opening a cupboard. She found the spark of ownership first but she bypassed that without looking at it too closely and reached farther. In the space where the magic opened up there was a buzz. Bespelled objects sometimes vibrated hard enough that even unskilled warlocks or even humans with the Sight could feel it.

Tessa followed the buzz until she found the thin gold line. She smiled again. Sometimes she could tell what the magic did but in this case she couldn't. The line wound and twisted through the ball, a complicated spell involving whatever substances swished about inside. It looped but she traced along it like untangling a knot or completing a children's maze. When she found the point beyond the object itself where it stretched tight she snapped it.

It had only taken a few seconds. The magic finished, she dropped the expression off her face and drew herself to her full height. Very slowly her head tilted to one side and she widened her eyes.

Stormbreaker was a stupid nickname but she'd brought it upon herself with this trick. She used a glamour and her century's worth of remembered changes and altered only her eyes. Jet black, flashing to white like a lightning strike and then roiling through gray as she used a simple levitation spell to push her hair back and up as changed it from brown to gray then white as though the colour were being pushed out of it from her forehead back as it swirled around her head. It was useless but it looked impressive.

She dropped all the glamour and held the ball out.

There was a stunned moment. Travis stared with an uneasy look in his eyes as though afraid something terrible would happen if he took the ball from her. She smiled as sweetly as she could, "It's done."

Natasha snorted and Frank started to laugh and a moment later he was leaning against Tessa's shoulder and laughing hard enough that his shoulders shook. Travis took the ball and looked at the three of them with dawning anger that he was being messed with.

"You should have seen your face," Natasha said to Travis before turning to Tessa, "Do it again, only do the hair in pink this time!"

"No, I am not a performing monkey," Tessa said but she couldn't not smile. Natasha thought the changing was a cute trick, just another glamour. Tessa had tried to tell her that it was so much more than that but Natasha wasn't particularly fond of what she did not understand so she simply pretended it didn't exist.

Travis was glaring but he no longer seemed particularly threatening. The storm cloud eyes was a parlour trick and that it had worked on him made him seem even younger than Tessa had expected considering the way he behaved as though her were the supreme leader of the group. It could be hard to guess a warlock's age but she guessed he was no older than Natasha. He was certainly shy of his first century.

He looked down at the ball in his hand and shook it. A moment later he shook it harder. Whatever it was meant to do, it didn't do it.

"Now will you tell me what all this is for?" Tessa asked waving a hand at the room.

"There's a portal," Natasha said her face lit up, she'd been waiting to explain it. She grabbed Tessa's arm and hauled her forward to stand nearer the glowing circles at the back of the room. The one on the left shimmered in blue while the other winked from yellow to lime green and back again. Natasha wasn't looking at them, she was looking at a pair of maps spread across the tables.

They were massive and Tessa's sense of familiarity as she looked them over didn't settle into recognition until she tracked the river past Black Friar's bridge. It was a map of London. The other was a map of Venice.

"The portal is picking people up here," Nat tapped London, "and dropping them here," she tapped Venice.

"That's how I got here," Tessa said looking between the maps for the trick that would explain why this warranted a team of seven warlocks and enough magical paraphernalia to open a store. After the show and the fit laughter, all the warlocks were watching Tessa as Nat grinned at her.

"But you came from today," Natasha said. "The portal isn't so … particular. It brings people from all over history."

"It's a time travel portal?" Tessa asked. "Why would you do that? How would you do that? Warlocks have tried to play with time for centuries, it never ends the way people want it to."

"We're not doing it," Frankie said, just a little offended.

"Where are the people?" Tessa asked. Nat's face fell as though that wasn't the response she wanted to hear.

"They're from all over the last 500 years or so," Frankie said.

"No, where are they? Where are the people?" Tessa asked looking around the room full of warlocks. The audience had drawn in a little closer. None of them looked like they had come from some point 500 years earlier. They wore modern clothing and they were young. All of them were young. Tessa wasn't sure she'd even seen this many young warlocks in one place. She certainly wasn't used to being the oldest immortal in a room.

"Upstairs," Travis said with a shrug. He still held the ball and watched Tessa warily as though she were something dangerous.

"Can I meet them?" Tessa asked. "Are they mundanes or Downworlders? What are you going to do with them?"

"Always with the questions," Natasha said shaking her head.

"Always with the non-answers," Tessa was exasperated enough that it was coming through in her voice. She had to catch herself before she exclaimed, by the Angel instead it came out as, "My goodness, Nat. This isn't a small thing. You have people here. What did you tell them?"

"That we're trying to help them," Natasha said. Tessa wasn't sure what expression was on her face but it certainly wasn't friendly. Natasha was defensive when she added, "Which is true. We are trying to help them. That's why you're here. You're going to do your tracking thing and find the source of the spell and we'll be able to turn the spell around. It'll be fine."

"Introduce me," Tessa said.

"No," Travis said.

Tessa was about to start an argument when a commotion at the side door pulled everyone's attention. A black shadow came through the door as it opened and everyone took an instinctive step back from it as it flashed red eyes.

Everyone but Travis. Travis cooed at it.

"Who's a good girl?" he asked as it slunk towards him looking nothing like a good girl and everything like a hell demon. It swirled around his legs and nearly obscured him completely for a moment in a mass of black and red menace that he seemed not to see.

Tessa tried for something more articulate but only succeeded in saying, "The fuck?"

"Elsa where is Chauncey?" Travis asked the mass of shadow.

"Are you telling me that Elsa and Chauncey are Hellhounds?" Tessa asked her voice more incredulous than anything else. "You sent Hellhounds after someone who just stepped through a time travel portal? Worse than that, you sent Hellhounds out into a mundane city at dusk? How many people has Elsa eaten do you think?"

"Tessa, let it go," Natasha's voice was low and urgent and Tessa let herself be dragged away to the side door because she needed a moment to collect herself.

Neither of them spoke as they walked down the hallway. The yellowed tile was smeared with red where someone had bled on it and then it had been tracked around. Tessa could see drag marks as well as footprints and her stomach turned a little. She looked around trying to figure out which door they had taken the prisoner through. There were two with bloody hand prints and she filed that information away but suppressed the urge to react before she had a plan.

"I shouldn't have invited you, I'm sorry I got you involved in this, you probably shouldn't come back. Travis will tell Dmitri that you're a problem and you don't want to be here when he comes looking for you," Natasha said.

"No, Nat, you shouldn't have gotten involved in this," Tessa said. "This isn't going to end well for anyone at all, least of all, you."

"Don't come back, Tess, I'm sorry, I am," Natasha said just before she pushed Tessa out the door. Before she could get her bearings and argue the door slammed shut and she was left her in the dark graffitied alleyway behind the church alone.

**AN**:

**Yes, that's the same Marcelline and the same La Miroir that showed up in passing in Infernal War.**

**One of my great pet-peeves with the TID books is that they never really get a chance to delve into Tessa's abilities but hint that she is more powerful than we learn of in the story. One of the things I really enjoyed in putting this story together was the chance to explore that. Tessa as I write her in this story is a seriously powerful warlock - with a bit of a reputation to precede her - and that's a lot of fun to write.**


	5. Sitting Still

Tessa was furious by the time she made it back to the hotel. She pushed her way into the room by way of a muttered spell after the key card failed twice. She slammed the offending bit of plastic down on the little table by the door and kicked off her shoes. She had every intention of launching into a explanation of why everyone in that church was an idiot and exactly what they had done to earn that label.

But then she saw Jem.

He looked up at her with a mild and curious expression. His eyebrows just slightly raised and a tiny smile lifting one corner of his lips. That wasn't the problem. The thing that made her stop before she'd said a single word was that he was sitting in the same place he'd been when she'd left him hours before. His shoes were still on.

"James?" she said. Everything else had disappeared.

"It didn't go well?" his voice was so normal it almost convinced her not to worry but he didn't move. He still sat in that same position as though he'd been turned to stone.

"They're idiots," she said because she thought maybe playing along with his little charade of normalcy might help he come back to it. All her rage was gone. She let any last pieces of it go as she was crossing the room to him.

She touched his hair first brushing it away from his forehead with just her finger tips because touching him more than that felt like an invasion when he was this quiet. It was soft as down in her fingers. The familiarity of it made her bolder. He watched her as she ran her knuckles down from his temples to his jaw. He'd lost any of that child's softness that had still lingered when she'd known him during their adolescence. He'd never stopped being the kind of beautiful that was delicate and gentle but there was nothing feminine in the lines of his face.

"Something is wrong," she said once she'd caught his face between her hands and tilted it up so she could see his eyes.

"It's nothing. It's only that the past is strong here," he said. Everything Natasha had said to her that evening came back to her. He was more right than he knew but she wasn't going to bring up something like that until she understood why he was so unhappy. Then again, she already knew.

"This is about Will," she said.

He was silent for a very long time and she waited. His hands came up and he held her wrists where her hands were still cupped around his cheeks. His eyes had fallen shut and his breathing slowed. She waited for the thoughts to work their way through his mind. He was razer sharp. Quick thinking and more intelligent that just about anyone else she knew but when the past got in the way like this he needed time.

The Silent Brothers saw the lines of the world laid out before them. Jem claimed it was often through a fog but they could still make out the shapes. From the deaths and births to the rises and falls of empires, they saw it all. They saw it change and shift. He had always been weaker than some of them but Jem had been a part of that. He could no longer see any of it but the memory of that knowledge still filled his mind sometimes. She had learned to give him the space he needed to think it through.

"It hasn't gone," he said his eyes still shut and his hands still holding hers in place.

She stepped in closer as he went quiet again. A little twitch of a smile escaped the mask when she nudged his knee and he moved it so she could stand between his legs. He didn't open his eyes but his hands released her wrists and looped around her waist instead. The smile was small and faraway but it stayed in place.

"I can feel him. Properly. I can feel him the way I used to. I'd thought I remembered what the parabatai bond felt like but I was wrong. I'd forgotten what it really meant. It feels different than I imagined and exactly like I'd forgotten. But that doesn't make sense does it?" he said.

"I know what you mean. I'm almost as old as you are," she smiled at that, as though the few months he was older than her mattered when your lives spanned more than a century. "I know what it's like to forget that you've ever known things, to lose entire pieces of who you used to be to time, to lose details that don't matter like Sophie's last name and details that do like the way her voice sounded when she was telling me off. I had forgotten once what it meant to love someone with every part of myself. I thought I knew what that meant but I didn't really remember it until you came home to me. I understand Jem, I do."

"I'm sure if I close my eyes and turn around he'll be there. It is utter madness," Jem's voice was almost a whisper and he muffled it further by pulling her in and pressing his face into her stomach. It was a childlike gesture and she smoothed his hair and rubbed his back as though he were that long lost little boy who'd had his childhood ripped out from under him at eleven years old.

"I've been afraid, and this is madness as well, I know that it is. I've been afraid that if I move or talk or jostle the memory at all, I'll lose it again," Jem spoke into her blouse and he dropped his voice another level. She doubted that she had actually heard it when he said, "Bloody hell but I miss him."

"You can't spend your life sitting still," she told him, "Trust me on that one."

"You were angry, why?" he said still speaking to a spot just below her ribs as she played with his hair. She found that silver streak that reminded her of the boy he had been so very long ago and ran it through her fingers. Jem had learned to live without his other piece but it wasn't easy.

"Natasha has idiot friends, utter morons," she said. "I don't want to talk about them right now."

"I'd like to know what's going on," Jem said in that mild inarguable voice he had. Gentle and kind and impossible to ignore but then that was how she always thought of Jem.

She put her hand on his shoulder where the parabatai rune lay hidden by his shirt and let herself think the thought she had been pretending did not exist. She dropped down beside him on the edge of the bed and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She could see the appeal of sitting here and holding onto the maybe.

"There's a portal," she said, "It is dropping people here in the city and they can't figure out who is casting it or why. They sent a pair of hellhounds after a person who fell through this afternoon. It came waltzing back into their headquarters like calling up animalistic demons was just something people did on Tuesday afternoons. It's not just that it's against the Law. It's just plain stupid. This is how people get killed. They wouldn't let me see any of the arrivals. They kicked me out when I had the audacity to get angry that they were releasing demons into the streets of a mundane city."

"And the part you're leaving out?" he asked and she smiled because of course he would be able to tell.

She looked at him and his eerie stillness. It was his Silent Brother stillness that so deeply unnerved her because it left her feeling like she was losing him again. She considered lying because it wasn't a thought he should be dwelling on when he was like this. They had spent so much time lying to protect one another when they were young and she didn't want to go back to that.

"It's time travel portal," she said.

He smiled like she'd told a bad joke, "Time travel is impossible. I was a Silent Brother for more than a century. We tracked time. Time is a wheel but it can never return to where it has been."

"They're pretty sure," she said as she explained the rest of what she knew. She used the word 'prisoner' where Natasha had used 'arrival'.

"It could be an elaborate hoax," he said.

Tessa was surprised at herself for not having thought of that herself. She was usually cynical enough to expect the worst but she had taken Natasha's assertion that it was a time travel portal at face value. It went deeper than Natasha's conviction. It had everything to do with that thought she kept pretending she wasn't thinking. She wanted it to be true.

"Then why are they keeping it such a secret? Why risk raising demons and using magic like this so close to Idris if it wasn't for a good reason?" she asked.

Jem raised his eyebrows in a question. There must have been something in her voice, some expression that had betrayed that buried thought. She shook her head, "I can't even think it. I can't."

"Ok," he said. Like the blue sneakers the little modern phrase seemed out of step with who she thought he was and yet it fit.

"We're going to have to do something," she said with her eyes shut as she leaned against him.

"Call the Clave?" he asked.

"I'd rather not," she said. Jem trusted the Clave in a way that she couldn't. His faith in the organization wasn't blind or unshakable but it was still stronger than hers which was nonexistent. "These people are my friends and they're so young. I don't think they have any idea what they're involved with. I won't throw Frankie and Nat to the council. Nat's past couldn't stand up to that kind of scrutiny and Frankie couldn't handle it at all. They'd end up arrested and at the very least locked up somewhere."

"We can't walk away," he said.

"I know that," she said. "We need to get those people out of there if nothing else."

Jem looked at her and the thing they weren't saying passed between them again but it stayed silent.

He finally moved to sit up against the headboard so she could snuggle into him a little closer as they talked. They planned. She talked through what she had seen of the church and Jem asked the questions that proved he was better at tactical thinking than she was. They were still wrapped up in each other as they made the phone calls that would get them enough support to do what they need to do.

"Magnus claims that Dmitri might be a Zakarov," Tessa said when she hung up the phone. "Apparently he has been sniffing around every rumour of time travel magic in the last half a century. Something happened in Melbourne but Magnus doesn't know what only that a Zakarov was involved and people died."

"You say Zakarov like that should mean something," Jem said.

"The Zakarov siblings, there's a boy and a girl, are better than a thousand years old. They're warlock legends. I would have said they were myth but Magnus said he met the sister once. They were supposed to be there at the fall of Constantinople and or maybe they caused the fall of Rome itself, depends on the story," Tessa said waving her hands.

"Oh and they worked with the magic divisions of the Nazi party and they're behind the Faerie Wars of the 1200s. They're like bogeymen for warlock fairy tales. We tell the young ones that the Zakarovs will come and get them if they use dark magics. It's all bollocks and hearsay," Tessa explained.

"Or perhaps all the stories are true," Jem said.

"Perhaps we should sleep," Tessa said. "I don't want to infiltrate the headquarters of a psychopathic ancient warlock without being rested."

It was early morning, sometime before dawn but only just. The planning had taken most of night. Tessa was as comfortable as she could be with a plan that included so many uncontrollable details, like Natasha, and had been drafted via long distance phone calls and guesswork.

"I don't know that I could sleep," Jem said.

"Come to bed with me anyways. Take off your shoes, have a cup of tea, tell me again that this is going to work," she said.

Tessa used a spell to make the tea appear so they wouldn't have to call room service or leave to get it. She didn't bother with pajamas and just kicked off clothing until she sat in the middle of the bed wearing a tank top and a pair of underwear with the cup of tea wrapped in her hands. She hadn't intended more than getting comfortable in the most efficient manner possible but Jem gave her a smile that said he took it as more than that.

The smile didn't fall away as he kicked off his shoes and almost as much clothing as she had left on the floor. He sat behind her and pulled her in close so they were skin to skin.

They were silent as she drank her tea and he ran his fingers up and down her arms. She was half asleep when he finally took the cup away from her and put it beside the one he hadn't touched on the little side table. She couldn't see him where he sat behind her but she was surrounded by the warmth of him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck for a moment.

"Can I say it aloud?" he asked.

"Are you sure you want to?" she asked.

"Are you afraid that it's true or that it's not?" he said.

"Yes, I'm afraid of both of those things," she said cuddling back into his chest a little more. He held her tighter.

She slowed her breathing to match his and tried to find some artificial version of his unshakable calm. Once she was paying attention, she could feel the anxiety running through him. It just ran quieter in him than it did for her. It was there in the tension in his chest, the way his fingers trembled just a fraction, even his heart beating too fast for how still he was.

"Tell me," she said with her eyes shut and her heart in her throat.

"Will is here somewhere," he said and a flash of blood smeared hallway filled her vision and turned her stomach harder in recollection than it had at the moment.

"Tess," Jem said uncurling her fingers and turning her to look at him. His fingers were on her face and she opened her eyes to find his only inches away. Dark brown, warm as a summer afternoon and sprinkled with both silver and gold if she took the time to look. She took the time until she could think straight again.

Speaking the thought aloud required closing her eyes and clearing her thoughts but she finally whispered, "He'll be ok. If," the words died and she had to fight to pull them back together again but she still couldn't force her mouth to form the shape of his name. Her voice was small when she continued, "If he is here, we'll find him."

For a long time, Jem was right and though they turned out the lights and wrapped themselves in blankets and each other, they didn't sleep. In the morning, Tessa would still be able to hear the melody Jem was humming to himself when she fell asleep. It was a song of training rooms and circles of fire, of battles and love and little boys tying their lives together. The last time she'd heard it had been one of the hardest days of her life.

She finally let his name out as she fell asleep, "Will."

.

.

**AN: thank you to everyone who has read and extra special thanks to those that have left feedback! I love writing this and am glad other people seem to be enjoying it as well.**


	6. Fire

It was just before dawn when Jem and Tessa walked by the church. There hadn't been much sleep the night before and it was still before dawn when Tessa declared that they needed to do something. Her head had been against his shoulder and the warmth and nearness of her had kept his heart rate in check until she whispered, "Are you asleep?"

"No," he told the top of her head. They had been lying in bed for a little better than an hour. Tessa had murmured Will's name before she'd dozed off and Jem hadn't been able to sleep at all. He kept worrying at the newly recovered parabatai connection. They had done the same thing when they'd first completed the ritual. They'd played little games to figure out how to use this new sense of another person. It wouldn't tell him where Will was but it could tell him that he wasn't seriously injured. He wished it would work more like a homing signal or a communication device but it wouldn't.

His rune was still faded but the sense of Will was there again. It had been missing for so long that Jem was surprised how strongly he felt like he'd recovered something immense and essential. The link had only existed for the blink of an eye in a very long life — just a handful of years out of 15. And yet, it had defined him and everything that came after.

Tessa's hand was in his as they walked through Venice in the dark. Shuttered and silent, the city slept around them. He had said the past was strong here and it was even stronger in the dark. The modern pavements and concretes of New York and Los Angeles didn't feel like flagstones beneath your feet. The sound of the water in the canals was almost like the sound of the Thames and if he closed his eyes he could call up exact memories of London as he'd seen it as a young man right down to the fogs.

She led the way to a large crumbling building and looked up at the faceless angels over the front doors with a frown line between her eyebrows. Jem scanned the building again, looking for the thing that he had missed. It looked quiet and empty. His patience waned faster than it usually did. He squeezed her hand and raised his eyebrows.

"The warding is different. It isn't simple anymore," she answered the silent question.

"You will not go in there alone," Jem said before she could suggest it.

"If you go in there, it will not go well," she said.

"They kicked you out," he said, "They pushed you out a door and slammed it behind you. Magnus is on the Council and that you are his friend is not a secret. They aren't going to welcome you with flowers and champagne."

"I know that but they also won't panic. You're rather distinctly Nephilim. They'll think I did bring the Council down on them," she said running her fingers over the runes of his cheeks. In the dark her face was just shadows and impressions of features. There was no way she could see the marks below her fingers but she had the shape memorized.

"That isn't far from the truth," Jem said.

Tessa turned back to the church and didn't answer him, "There is something wrong," she said.

"Yes but please don't put yourself in the middle of it," he said. It was a losing argument but he made it. He did not want her in that building. Even without being able to feel the magic like she could, he knew that something was wrong. He reached out for the possible futures radiating out of this moment but the senses that allowed him to do that were long gone. The runes on his face were no longer active though they were still deep black against his skin.

"Go get the others. I'm already in the middle of it but I'm glad that I'm not in the middle of it by myself," she said and then kissed him before he could say anything else. He leaned into the kiss harder than she was expecting and when they broke apart she looked just a little alarmed. He wanted to promise her that he was fine but wasn't sure if it was true or not. He didn't say anything. He did kiss her again.

Jem followed Tessa down the alley but she entered the building alone. He had his phone open and was dialing a number before the door had fully swung shut.

* * *

><p>Will was leaning against the magical barrier that stood between the motley crew of seven time travelers and the even more motley crew of warlocks below them. Snippets of conversation could be heard from below but the little prison was set back from the edge of the choir loft and the barrier itself muffled sound.<p>

What they could tell was that the warlocks were packing. It hardly seemed a good sign. Will had watched them box up materials he couldn't identify as they spoke in low voices and looked around worriedly.

"Let me see your arm," a voice interrupted his spinning thoughts and he turned to look at Edith Wilson. She was a woman who was ten years older than he was and thought the proper date was in August of 1922. She was a study in beiges from her sensible shoes to her demure little hat. Even her hair was a light brown that was nearly beige.

Dull and plain and yet she had an air authority about her that rivaled Charlotte's. She had been an army nurse during the Great War. Will hadn't asked what made it a war Great as he was too faint to do much more than pretend that he wasn't faint. He held the arm out to her.

"Is the headache fading?" she asked as she prodded at the bandage she had wrapped around his arm.

"Yes," he said. His stele was gone but even without iratzes his body was clearing the poisons from the bite quickly. The pain that had come with the bite had faded and now he was just suffering from the dizziness and lack of coordination that blood loss brought on and even that was less than it had been.

"Could you take one of them in a fight?" this question didn't come from the practical Edith, it came from Alison. Alison Lynburn was exactly 100 years younger than Will - to the month - and somehow also two years older. It baffled him when he stopped to think about it so he avoided it.

She was the only other Shadowhunter to have come through. She had a Scottish accent, a lot of dark brown skin showing through an alarmingly orange shirt and a pair of tight trousers that might have come from a set of gear. Her black hair cut too short to even be considered boyish and she wore a ring in her nose.

"Yes," Will said.

"It hardly matters as we are inside this thing," this came from Edward, the werewolf from the 1840s as he thumped on the barrier.

Alison let out a torrent of swearing that was creative even by Will's standards. She also had an attitude that made Will's seem charming. In Alison's own words, she was pissed right off. She had been there more than a week. It was grating on her. No one else stood too close to her. When she turned to hammer on the barrier herself, she went through.

"You were saying?" she said with something like glee in her expression.

The barrier was gone. Will gently disengaged from Edith's still and shocked hands that had been prodding at the bandage on his arm and stepped toward the edge of the loft.

"Everyone stay up here," Will said and was surprised that no one argued with him. They either had the upper hand because the spell had unexpectedly failed or they were being released for a reason. The reason was probably not something they wanted to discover too quickly.

Below them was a wide church floor cleared of pews. There was a pile of boxes and the remains of a pair of massive spell circles near the back door. A knot of warlocks stood near the sealed doors at the front of the church. They were gathered around a woman in dark pants and a blue sweater who pulled Will's attention immediately.

"Another arrival," Edith whispered looking out at the floor, "Another one of you."

"How can you tell that from here?" Alison asked.

"I've met her," Edith said. "Teresa something. Highsmith maybe or Highdale? She worked with the Shadowhunters in 1921. An entire camp of soldiers and a few of us nurses were bit by one crazy werewolf after the battle of the Somme. I can't remember what her position was but Inquisitor Lightwood took her seriously whenever she gave advice. She gave me the number for the Praeter Lupus herself. How a Shadowhunter even knew it is beyond me but I'm still grateful for it."

It was Tessa. His Tessa. No, even now, his mind whispered the correction: Jem's Tessa. Tessa looked tall and severe in a way Will hadn't ever thought she could be. Not a brave girl but a queen among commoners. When she turned to glare at the bat winged warlock who had originally met Will, the look was enough to make everyone shut up and listen to her.

"You're all going to die here. This isn't the first time this has happened. Seven warlocks died in Melbourne after Dmitri Zakarov showed up looking into time travel rumours. Melbourne doesn't have seven warlocks of its own. They were an assembled team, like you," she said in response to whatever had been said while Edith whispered her explanation.

Tessa stood among them and the division between two sides came visible as the little group shifted. She was among them as one of them, not a Shadowhunter but a warlock. He had never really thought of her as a warlock even as the evidence piled up that that was what she was. Will didn't correct Edith because he couldn't get the thoughts straight. He was busy wondering how old she was and whether or not she was happy and how she had found herself here and how she knew these people.

He found himself wondering if she remembered him at all.

That thought nearly crippled him.

If the others were right about the date they found themselves in, it was 136 years since he'd told her he loved her. 136 years of life between that moment and this one. Had they been friends? Had he ever succeeded in stopping himself from loving her? Had she still been kind to him after Jem -

He stopped himself from thinking it all the way through.

If the first thought nearly crippled him, that one finished the job.

His fingers were white against cracked paint of the rail and he had to be elbowed by Alison to be pulled back to the world as it was. 136 years from home. Everyone he knew must be a century gone.

Everyone but Tessa.

"We need to get out of here, are you coming?" Alison asked when he finally managed to look at her and actually see her face. Everyone he knew had already died before she'd been born. Will might have stayed frozen by thoughts like that if the werewolves hadn't had better senses than he did.

"Something's burning," Edith said in the same calm voice she had used while bandaging up his bleeding arm. There was a wide gap of floor between where Will stood and where everyone else had gathered by the stairs. He hadn't realized that everyone had moved. A feeling made up of longing and grief and confusion worried at his mind but if there was one thing William Herondale could do it was suppress his emotions.

"Try the window," he said turning away from the stairs and the edge of the loft and Tessa. Letting her out of his sight made him nervous but they all needed an exit.

The large window at the back of the choir's space had been boarded over from the outside and much of the glass had already been smashed out of the frames by weather or vandals or just time. They might have been able to pry loose the boards but the smoke that Edith had been able to smell thickened and the boards were heating up.

"I think the roof is on fire," Alison said. In the last few hours she had filled every silence with talking even when nothing needed said.

They headed for the stairs. They made it down to the long hallway still smeared with Will's dried blood and found that the back door was sealed too tightly to even shift when Alison threw her weight against it. Will turned first, needing to double check where Tessa was and they spilled out into the main room of the church in time to see the fight break out.

It wasn't much of a fight really. Tessa had her back to the door and Will saw Trevor shove her. Moving shadowhunter fast, Tessa absorbed the impact and settled into a fighting stance for a brief moment before she lashed out. She hit him square in the chest and knocked him to the floor in an angry sputtering sprawl. She stood over him and looked down. Will couldn't see her expression but he could see the warlock's scowl.

Will and Jem had had a trainer as a boy who had done that back before Jessamine's disinterest and Will's attitude had chased him off like all the others. It was embarrassing to have someone just push you over because it meant you didn't know how to fight at all. He had shoved Will over repeatedly until Will had taken to dragging Jem to the training room to drill footwork until he could dodge or block fast enough to stay up. It was rather more comedic when it was being done to someone else.

"The building is on fire and your back door doesn't open," Edith said when the warlocks all turned from the tussle to look at them.

Tessa looked over her shoulder and didn't look away from him. He wasn't sure she so much as scanned the other arrivals. One of them might have been a seven foot gorilla and she wouldn't have seen it. Nothing in her expression was readable to him. It could have been horror or shock or relief or even mild annoyance. She looked ancient and childlike. She didn't really look like Tessa at all.

"Get the front doors open," she said and though she didn't look away from him the order was issued to everyone else.

"If you're right, we'll step out there and he'll kill us," a warlock Will hadn't met yet said.

"You'd rather take your chances with the fire?" she said finally looking away though only for a moment. Her accent was different, less American, with a different weight to the vowels. "There are people out there who can help. Follow the lights and get the hell away from the building. Dawn is coming and just about anything he might have called up won't be able to follow you into sunlight."

She wasn't speaking to the warlocks now, she was speaking to the people around Will.

"You called the Council?"

"She would, she's another one of Bane's little sluts."

"The hell is wrong with you?"

"When they kill us all, do you really think you'll be safe?"

The voices overlapped but at least a few were moving to pull wood off the doors instead of yell things at Tessa. The wood was old and warped but they had magic on their side and a few of the arrivals went to help. Will was still watching Tessa and waiting for her to turn her attention back to him. He should have gone to help but he was caught by some spell in the way her expression shifted just slightly as the voices from the little crowd overlapped.

"Bane's sluts?" of all the possible comments to answer, she chose that one and turned towards the person who had said it. "Are you serious? Is that really the insult you chose? He's married now, did you know? Go get the doors down so we don't burn to death you idiot."

"You could have done better than idiot, you're more creative than that," Will said falling into step beside her, "Something like "foul diseased slug" perhaps."

"He wouldn't have got it if I'd tried," she said with a brief but brilliant flash of smile.

"You're here," she said. She turned her back on everyone else, still yelling insults and her hand fluttered for a second but she didn't touch him. The hesitation was so out of step with the orders and the aristocratic bearing that it shattered the illusion that she wasn't the girl he had known. Older and stronger perhaps but still herself.

When she looked right at him the smile became that same look she'd given him before. There was so much force behind that look and he wasn't any closer to understanding it. It wasn't a happy look but it also wasn't angry or even sad. It was strong enough that the gathering smoke up above and the sound of fire didn't pull his attention like they should have. He should have worried when they heard the first crack of large pieces of the ceiling settling.

He should have felt that same trill of panic that everyone else did when they realized why the barrier spell on the circle upstairs had failed. There was a larger barrier between them and the outside world.

Instead his voice was calm and even when he spoke to Tessa.

"Can we get out?" he asked.

"Yes, you take them out the front and find the Shadowhunters, depending on when people came from they won't trust them at all and none of the warlocks will but I trust those people, they'll get everyone clear," she said it just to Will in a low voice that sounded less like the angry warlock queen she had been and more like the girl he knew.

"I'll go when you go, not sooner," he said.

She might have argued but there wasn't time for it. The crackling had become roaring and the air around them was hot and thick. The nave was stone but the fire was above them in the rafters and the supports for the dome. The lights failed and there were shrieks and pushing in the dark.

That there was still light to see by was terrifying in itself. The fire above them glowed bright though the rafters hadn't started to collapse yet.

Tessa flattened her hands against the barrier and ignored everything else. Will stood near her but the warlocks who called commentary at her ignored him. The idea that Tessa might have contacted the Clave had set everyone on edge. He didn't answer them either except for the one he hit. It hadn't been planned but it was Trevor and he kept getting closer and closer as he tried to get Tessa's attention. Will pulled the punch enough that the man staggered with a bloody lip instead of going down. He didn't try to get close to her again.

Tessa didn't appear to be doing anything but there was a tension to her and a little frown played across her face. The barrier split just enough to allow Will and the others near the front to catch a glimpse of the fire lit square and a breath of fresh air. She inhaled audibly and then pushed it wide enough that a person might pass through.

And they did.

Tessa held her ground to the side of the rift as people jostled by her. In the end there were only three of them left. It was Tessa's friend with the orange hair and the curling horns who had stayed behind and Will perhaps should have waited to see what she had to say but he didn't. He grabbed hold of her sleeve and pushed her out the gap with every intention of dragging Tessa along behind.

She had been fighting to hold the barrier in place the entire time. Her breathing had been uneven and sometimes even gasping. Whatever battle she was fighting she lost and fell forward as the rift she'd carved out fell shut again. Will had to catch her to keep her from collapsing to the floor.

"Tess?" he asked. He turned her so she leaned against the spot where the gap in the spell had been. She wasn't unconscious but she leaned her head against his shoulder and let the barrier hold her weight.

"He's fighting me. It's not just the spell, someone's trying to stop me," she murmured.

"Can you do it a moment longer?" Will asked touching her face and tilting her chin up so she would look at him. She looked ragged and shaky.

"Not alone," she said.

"It's just us here, everyone else is gone," he said.

"It's you I need," she said with a little smile that looked sad.

The same trainer who had been fond of pushing Will over whenever he missed his footwork had also had an irrational fear of warlocks. He had claimed you should never allow one to so much as shake your hand because they could drain all your power with a touch. Will had flagrantly ignored that advice a repeatedly just to see if it was true. So far he hadn't been drained by any of the warlocks he had met.

"I've never done that," he said.

"It's ok," she told him, "We've done it before. You and me," she linked her fingers through his and even with the building burning down around them it made his heart stutter just a bit. She looked at him and the grey-blue of her eyes didn't belong in this world painted in charcoal and black and orange. "You may have to drag me out of here."

"Anything you need," he said tightening his fingers around hers to let her know that she had his permission for whatever she was about to do.

She flattened her free hand against the barrier but didn't turn back to look at it. She dropped her head to Will's shoulder again and he felt the warmth of her magic spill up his arm and then draw something out of the center of him. He'd been expecting it to hurt but it felt peaceful if strange.

He pulled her in with his other arm so that he was actually holding her against his chest when she went rigid with the effort of forcing her way through the spell. He felt the yank in his chest somewhere when she pulled hard on the magic connection. She pressed herself a little closer to him and then screamed.

They tumbled out through the rift she opened and straight into a battle already raging. The little link and the feeling that he was full of water draining slowly vanished and Tessa collapsed against him with a soft noise that might have been his name. The heat of the fire made breathing difficult. Will gathered her into his arms and pulled her away from the roar of flames and the nearby screech of something that wasn't human.

* * *

><p>Jem did not see the fire start. He made it back to the square only moments after the first flames started licking up the rooftop. He wasn't alone. He had a pair of rumpled Shadowhunters who had been dragged out of bed by a phone call that made only a little bit of sense. They had been prepared for most of what was going to happen but they had been intended to arrive in Italy later that day with a few more people. Instead of five or six, there were only two and Magnus who was still quite a bit farther behind them after opening and reseting the portal so that they could get out of the city quickly.<p>

The fire wasn't any of the things that Jem was prepared for. The shock of it wasn't improved when they realized that the flash of flames wasn't just fire. Pieces of it took flight and lifted up off the fledgling inferno on burning wings.

"Is anything about the two of you normal?" Jem looked over at Jace Herondale who, unlike him, was properly dressed and armed. He was all black and gold as he considered the church. He shrugged in an almost elegant way and continued, "Most people don't find flying fire demons on their vacations."

"Or get married on bridges," Alec added.

"Or steal cats," Jace said.

"He is my cat," Jem said and he might have had a comeback for the other points but it was lost in a low swoop of the nearest of the flaming birds. It screeched as it came at them with claws outstretched. Any other details of its appearance were lost in a blur of fire as the three of them rolled away in different directions.

Jace's blonde hair looked orange in the reflected fire light as he swung around with a runed blade that flashed before it bit into the thing. Jem couldn't have moved that fast to get back and complete that swing before it took off again. He sometimes forgot just how much stronger and faster Jace was than even other Shadowhunters. The demon let out a second screech before it exploded into ichor and fizzling flame.

Alec had a bow and arrow and brought down two more. Even with training and experience on his side Jem's throwing knives weren't nearly as effective as the bow. The demons came thick and fast and the battle blocked out every other worry until Jem heard a human yell. Jace and Alec were to his right and this sound came from farther left and he swung around to look at the church and see the first people step out into the square and start to scatter.

He turned in that direction and dodged rather than attacked as he made his way forward. He met up with a Shadowhunter girl wearing neon and skinny jeans either forty years out of fashion or brand new off the shelves of a fashionable shop.

"How many people are still inside?" he asked. She gave the runes on his face a strange glance but that wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that she didn't immediately know who he was. He had gotten used to people knowing who he was. The Shadowhunter community was so small that being the only ex-Silent Brother in existence made him something of a household name. That he'd been one of only a handful of the few who survived the massacre added to the notoriety as did his role in the Battle of Alicante.

"Fucked if I know," she said, "Not many. There were only 16 to begin with."

Jem handed her a weapon. All of his weapons had been hastily borrowed from what Jace and Alec had brought with them. The sword he handed her was not really ideal for fighting flying creatures. He didn't ask her about Will or Tessa.

"Are you the one the girl who is apparently not actually a Shadowhunter from 1920 claims is here to help?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. It was a pretty good description of Tessa and it eased something tight and anxious in him.

Jem sent the girl toward Jace and Alec and any one else he found he sent that way as well. He found a man curled against the stone fountain looking terrified and had to physically drag him to safety. He would find out later that Dennis the dentist was the only mundane to come through the portal and had been in a state of panic since he'd arrived. Fire and demons had sent him into a near catatonic state.

Nearer the church the attacks from the swooping demons thinned out and the only real danger was that the building was burning and starting to collapse. The fire was demonic and it was even eating through the stone now that it was picking up speed.

He hadn't seen Tessa.

He scanned the building and then turned and looked out over the battlefield that had once been a square. There were still people scurrying about and he could pick out Alec rationing his last arrows. A warlock stood inside the fountain, it might have been Magnus but he was facing the wrong way for Jem to be sure. He raised water and flung it at the creatures making them hiss and shudder before they burst into unnatural flame again. It slowed them down but didn't stop them.

Tessa wasn't there. She wasn't on the ground. She wasn't on her feet. She simply wasn't there. He turned back to the burning building and prepared to do something stupid. Something hit him hard between the shoulder blades and he hit the ground inelegantly with a sideways roll. He was flat on his back when the creature lunged at him with its claws and then went sideways. Jem pushed himself to his feet and caught it with the only sword he had left as it whirled again.

Ichor and flames blew past him as it disintegrated but didn't actually stop. He wiped the mess away with his sleeve and turned to see that it had been a cafe chair that had hit the thing. The chair was made of ornate wrought iron and still had the little blue cushion tied to it. None of those details made Jem stop and blink.

"Are you thick?" Will asked and Jem blinked again. It might have proved the point but he didn't have anything to say yet. Will was young. He wore shirt sleeves and had a bandage that stretched up his arm from wrist to elbow. Even disheveled he was as obnoxiously handsome as he had ever been. The familiarity of him surprised Jem. It had to be better than 130 years since he'd seen Will like this and yet he knew him immediately.

"Some days," Jem told him. "Down."

Will didn't argue the point. He ducked and swung his chair up to catch the wings of the demon and yank it around. Someone's hair burned before Jem managed to behead the thing. The smell of singed hair was strong even in the assault on the senses that was the demonic fire.

When they were both on their feet again, Will looked at Jem differently. The realization crossed his face slowly.

"You don't recognize me. I hadn't even considered that," Jem said.

"You should be dead," Will said.

"You actually are," Jem said and even with him standing there the joke was painful.

"The Brothers," Will touched Jem's face and his expression was dark. Jem's mind pulled up a long buried memory of how angry Will had been during their last meeting after Cadair Idris before he'd descended into the Silent City to start his training. Like the promise he had made Tessa, it was a memory both distinct and faded after being pulled out and thought over too many times.

"Zack!" Jace's voice interrupted the train of everyone's thoughts and Will followed Jem's glance back towards where the people were massing. There were people on the ground but even at a distance, Jem knew that none of them were Tessa. The demons were gone, either dead or fleeing. Dawn was coming but the square was spattered with ichor where many of the things had died.

"Zack?" Will asked.

"I was Brother Zachariah when I met him," Jem said absently as he turned to look back at the church. Whatever Jace needed could wait. Without intending to, he changed his footing so that his shoulder was against Will's before he said "Tessa went in there."

"I know," Will said.

"Where is she?" he tried to be comforted by the tone in Will's voice but Will was the type of person who could have buried any feeling. Jem had never pretended to understand what he was thinking.

"Over here," Will said and Jem let the last of the fear go. His emotions weren't always stable. Even five years after leaving the brothers and having them come back to him, he still swung wildly from one extreme to the other. His relief washed through him.

Tessa was tucked into the doorway of the cafe where the chair had come from. She was curled in the remains of Will's jacket and her eye lashes fluttered when Jem touched her shoulder. He stumbled a little to settle down beside her. He kissed her forehead and she stirred a little closer to awake.

"Jem?" she said very softly.

"Hello," he said.

"Jem, I had a dream," she was muttering, half asleep. He had seen her like this only a handful of times when she had used too much magic and was left exhausted and drained. She had explained once that being half Shadowhunter allowed her to use types of magics that others couldn't but she could never be as strong as someone like Magnus.

He pulled her forward and she curled into his arms so that he could pick her up. She was snuggly and needy when she was hurt. He held her close. Will was quiet and distant and Jem kicked him in the ankle. It was something they'd done as children when they'd wanted one another's attention. Will looked at him and there was something incredulous in his expression.

"I am so glad to see you," Jem said.

"And I you," Will said.

They turned back towards the little group across the square. It wasn't safe to stay here. It wasn't safe to be in the country but that relief that had washed through Jem hadn't faded.

"I had a dream that Will was here," she whispered into his chest.

"I know," Jem said to her looking over at Will who gave him a smile that he had seen before but hadn't been able to read back then. He had thought it indulgent annoyance at all the romantic sappiness. It wasn't. It was a smile that said, I'm trying to be happy for you but it hurts.

"I know," Jem repeated in answer to that smile though Will would assume it was directed at Tessa. He did know. He had lost her too. He held her close as he bumped his shoulder against Will again and then led the way across the square.


	7. Portals

**AN: A Wessa chapter for my shipper friends. **

In a plain looking apartment not too far from where the church smouldered in early morning sunlight, Magnus Bane had made a portal. Will hadn't seen him at the battle until the very end when he had appeared near the pair of Shadowhunters who kept calling Jem "Zack" and flung magic up at some of the last circling demons.

He'd been snapping orders to get everyone, including the injured and the two dead, from the square to the portal when he'd caught sight of Will and given him a very strange look. Everyone else was already moving and Magnus made his way through the stream of people moving the opposite direction to come stand in front of them.

Jem still held Tessa and stood beside him. Will had been casting little glances at her when no one else was watching just to make sure that she wasn't any worse. She was pale but peaceful with her cheek pressed against Jem's shirt. He wanted to ask if she was still cold because she had been so cold when he'd pulled her out of the building. He didn't.

"Nobody mentioned this," Magnus said looking at Will with his head tilted a little and his cat eyes glinting strangely in the half light of dawn. He wore black but his shirt had a design picked out on it in some sort of glittering black beading. His hair had been hit by some errant water spell another warlock had thrown during the battle but even wet and disheveled it had a bit of a sparkle to it. Anyone else would have looked comical.

"We didn't know," Jem said.

"Really? Magnus asked.

"We weren't sure," Jem said.

"How could you tell?" Will asked looking at Jem. Inside, Tessa had been shocked but maybe she had not really been surprised by his arrival.

"We're parabatai," Jem said as though it explained everything. Will wasn't sure if it was Magnus's expression or his that made Jem explain it, "Yesterday afternoon it was back. The parabatai link is a thing you can feel. I hadn't felt it in more than a century. I'd almost forgotten what it was like."

"Hmm," Magnus turned to Will, "Are you still cursed? I hope not because holy hell was that an annoying phase," Magnus asked before Will could ask Jem all the questions he wanted to about losing the link in the first place, about the brothers, about getting it back. It was such a part of him that he couldn't imagine living without it.

"No," Will said. "I have you to thank for that."

"True you do. You should consider thanking me with food and good wine," Magnus said.

They were moving now. Jem had his hands full with Tessa and Magnus and Will had found themselves in charge of carrying a warlock with a head wound. Without glamours the little train of people would have caused quite a stir but magic made sure that those out for early morning strolls or on their way to their places of employment found anything else to look at.

"The man with the metal robot things, is he still a problem?" Magnus continued the questions. "I can't remember his name, Mudvayne? No, I think that's a band."

"Yes, Mortmain's still a problem," Will said.

"So no caves then," Magnus said and Will saw Jem shoot him a look but it didn't mean anything to Will so he ignored it.

He was saved having to answer any more questions by their arrival at a building that looked like all the other buildings on the street. Magnus left Will to shoulder the weight of the warlock who groaned periodically and muttered complaints while he opened the doors and led the way inside.

The group hadn't been quiet but they'd been easier for Will to block out in the street. Inside the little room all the worried flutters of conversation were pressing in and Will wanted to turn around and leave. He might have if Jem and Tessa weren't there.

Across one wall an arch of runes had been drawn in a hasty hand. Will picked out a few from the Gray Book but most were warlock runes he couldn't identify. It all glowed green. Magnus had made his way to stand beside it and was shooing people away from it as he fussed with the final preparations for the spell.

Near the back of the group Jem and Tessa stood. Tessa was awake enough that Jem had set her down. She leaned into him but stood on her own two feet. The two Shadowhunters from the battle were talking to them. After lying the man he was carrying down with the other injured, Will made his way back to the little knot of them. He stood at Jem's side where he would have back home and they both looked at him. He didn't quite put himself between them and Tessa but he put himself close enough that he could have if they proved a threat.

The blonde one had strange eyes, almost gold. The other had black hair and blue eyes though a much lighter colour than Will's. They both wore gear and carried seraph blades though from the conversation they were having with Jem they were not there with official Clave approval.

"And if we show up in New York, my mother will kill us all," the dark haired man said.

"You're 25 and you're still scared of our mother?" the blonde asked. They didn't look anything like siblings but there was a sense of unity about them that being brothers might explain. They had the air of being unshakably on the same side of any fight.

"Don't lie, you're afraid of her too," he said.

"I'm 152 and I'm a little afraid of your mother," Jem said. "But that is not the point. We need to get those three in to see Catarina, that means New York." There were three seriously injured, including the man Will had been carrying and Edith who was capable of walking but had been bitten on the shoulder deep enough that without a capable doctor she would lose her arm.

Jem pushed on in a quiet authoritative voice, "Keeping it a secret will just make it worse. This is not a secret. It was an emergency requiring expediency. Besides, she is the head of the Institute and will hardly be surprised that any of us are operating off script."

"Aren't you supposed to know better?" the blonde asked.

"Oh no, he's almost as bad as you are, Jace, trust me on that," Tessa said with a half closed eyes and a twitch of a smile. All her sharp edges had been smoothed off by exhaustion. Will often had the urge to protect her from everything but seeing her like this made that need so much stronger. When it snuck up on him like this it was almost like forgetting how much he loved her and discovering it anew.

"He hides it better than most people," Will said. "People always assume that James is the good one."

"Yes, well, compared to you, I am," Jem said then turned back to the others without introductions which was a very un-Jem-like lapse in good graces, "Go get us clearance to bring everyone through. Tell Maryse she can blame us if she needs someone to tell off. It was our idea."

Once he'd chased the others off and they'd started cajoling people up to the runes that had been drawn onto the wall, Jem turned to Will. He was both Jem and a stranger and it made Will uneasy. Jem was a constant, a foundation but now he'd gone off and lived a long life and become someone else. Someone with deep brown eyes that were almost black and carried years in them in a way that had nothing to do with the age of his face.

"One of us has to go talk to Maryse and probably Robert and Ethan or one of the other cronies from the Inquistor's office," Jem said and Will didn't miss the easy way in which he and Tessa were simply "us" though Jem didn't seem to notice it.

Tessa's gray eyes found Will's face for a moment before fluttering shut again. She wasn't injured but she how ill she was still terrified him. Will curled his fingers into his pockets as Jem spoke because reaching for her in that moment would have been ridiculous and inappropriate. His fingers itched to touch her cheek or her hair. He wanted to be able to tilt her chin up so she looked him in the eye the way that Jem did.

"I'm going to go and talk to them," Jem said when she was looking at him. "You're going home."

Tessa closed her eyes and frowned, "I'd rather stay."

"Liar, you think you need to stay because you think everything that went wrong is somehow your fault," Jem said, "You don't and it isn't. Once everyone else is gone, take Will and go home."

"Will?" she said and her voice was weaker than it had been. She braced her hands on Jem's chest but she was wavering. Jem gave him another look over the top of her head and this time it was a clear message. He was being asked to take care of her.

"Take him home, I'll find you there when the Clave has finished asking questions," Jem said. Tessa nodded and though she hadn't actually crumpled, she leaned heavily into him again.

Jem held her tight for a moment. Everyone else had filtered through the portal and Will still had no idea how it worked. Magnus stomped over before he left too just to say, "I saw nothing." It was as close to permission to use the portal as they were going to get. When Magnus was gone it was just the three of them.

The first time he said it, Will assumed he was talking about Tessa and said, "Are you sure you shouldn't stay with her? She should be with someone she trusts if she's hurt."

"Are you hurt?" Jem repeated, touching his shoulder and frowning just a little. His voice was as even as it had been when he'd been talking to Jace and Magnus but there was a force behind the words that hadn't been there before.

"Nothing the iratze won't fix," Will said. He held up the arm that Edith had bandaged, it was still wrapped but there was an iratze drawn above the bandage near his elbow that was already starting to fade as it worked.

Tessa had faded as well and while Jem did whatever it was that made the portal activate, Will took his place beside Tessa. He wasn't paying any attention to how the magic worked. She was still cold. He'd expected to just need to provide an arm for her to lean on but once the audience of strangers was gone Tessa had stopped putting so much effort into acting normal. She was far worse than he thought she was and it terrified him that he might to fail her in some way while she was so vulnerable.

"Promise me that you'll both be fine," Jem said.

"We'll both be fine," Tessa said immediately.

"I love you, go to sleep, I'll see you soon," Jem said to her. Before he pushed them towards the portal and through it, Jem stopped and leaned his shoulder against Will's. They were a little knot of three people for a moment before Jem flashed a grin and said, "Be safe, please." The smile erased Will's lingering sense that this person was a stranger as well as his friend. He was only Jem when he smiled and Will smiled back more out of relief than anything else.

Will had to almost carry Tessa through the portal. He looked back, expecting to see Jem on the other side of some window but he was gone. They had stepped through into a little sitting room with huge bookshelves and curtains that let in only slivers of light from what Will assumed were the street lamps of the city.

Tessa stepped away from him and collapsed onto the vague outline of a piece of furniture. He knelt down with her intending to ask her what she needed but her expression was all unreadable intensity again and it froze him in place. Her hand fluttered toward him again but at the last moment she leaned over and lit a lamp on the table.

She hadn't touched him. He had touched her, had picked her up and carried her around. She hadn't touched him. He pulled back and sat on the edge of a low table nearby so he wouldn't be nearly so intrusive.

The sofa she sat on was dark green and she looked pale against the rich colour. Her hair was a mess and there was something smeared across her cheek that could have been ash or even dried blood or just dirt. He didn't reach to wipe it away. He was beyond improper already and did not want to make it worse.

"Will," she said.

"Tess," he said with a little smile.

"You're hurt," she said and her hand moved toward his bandaged arm. It fell away again before she touched him. "I'm sorry. I should have turned them in the moment Nat told me what was happening. I'm so sorry you got caught in it. You should be home."

"Don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong," Will said. "I'm not sorry to be here. How many people can say that they've seen what the future will be?" He wasn't sure he felt quite that cavalier about the entire thing but he couldn't talk about his worries with her as she looked ready to collapse.

She frowned like she was about to begin an argument and shivered. Will reached out to touch her hand to see if it was any warmer but stopped short of it. He got up instead and looked around the space. The lamp lit enough of a circle of light that he could find a blanket that had been tossed over a nearby chair. When he picked it up a piece of sheet music fell off the chair and drifted to the ground. He put it back on the chair and returned to drop the blanket over Tessa's shoulders. She looked up at him and her gaze followed him as he sat back down in front of her.

"You're here," she said. Incredulous and still far too intense.

"I've never been to New York," he said though he knew it wasn't what she meant. He tried to keep the conversation light and easy because that was what you did while visiting people who were ill. His mind wouldn't settle on how he felt about being there and he didn't want her to ask about time travel or impossibilities. He pushed on, knowing that he was nattering, "I always imagined that if I came to America, I'd come by ship. Where should I visit?"

There was another moment of hesitation but this time she reached out and put her hand on his. He had leaned forward so his elbows were braced on his knees and his hands hung between them. Her fingers were cold and he didn't move. She traced just her finger tips down the back of his hand then she curled her fingers around his.

He forgot how to breathe.

It wasn't the fingertips though they didn't help. It was the look on her face. It was that unreadable one that his imagination kept trying to fill in with wishful thinking. Once she held one of his hands in both of hers the hesitation came back. It was like balancing on an edge and she was going to push him over. Either direction was going to hurt.

"Come here?" she made it a question as she tugged on his hand just a little. This was going to hurt because she wasn't his to hold. He wasn't a good enough person to deny her anything even if it was wrong. He sat down beside her and she rested her head on his shoulder. She still wore his jacket, too big and tattered.

"I miss you," she whispered and he gave up on his attempts at propriety and wrapped his arms around her. He was going to say something stupid, something she didn't want to hear if he opened his mouth at all so he pressed his lips to her hair instead. The tension left her as she gave up her attempts to stay awake.

He hadn't noticed how tired he was until he was settled back against the corner of the sofa with her close enough that he was aware of her heartbeat. He closed his eyes and pulled her in so that she rested close to him. He could forget that this was wrong when she shifted and brought herself just a little closer. He gathered her cold hands in one of his and held them near his heart.

She whispered something that must have been, "I miss you" again but his infinite capacity for wishful thinking filled in a different word. He could feel her fall asleep, her breathing changed, her body relaxed, her hand no longer held his but just lay in his palm.

He fell asleep moments after she did with the words she mustn't have said still ringing in his head.


	8. Mad House

**AN: If my story notes haven't been clear so far, I ship everyone with everyone and this chapter is very much in that vein. This is pretty much just a happy fluffy chapter because happy fluffy chapters make me happy. **

The questions were endless. Jem sat at one of the long tables in the Institute's library where a particular bored school boy had carved JW into the wood at some point in his childhood. He considered doing the same. Adding a JC just to see how Ethan Lancaster would react was a childish response. Then again, it was close to noon and thanks to the time change, Jem hadn't slept in nearly 36 hours. He felt childish. He just wanted to go home. No one he wanted to talk to was in the room.

Most of the questions had been about verifying that the portal did what they said it did. Most of the warlocks had run for it during the battle but a few had stuck close in the hopes that it would keep them safe. They explained what they knew and Jem had a new appreciation for Tessa's assertion that they were idiots.

It was like listening to children tell you about how to play with fire because it wasn't really that hot.

The most frustrating part of the hours of questions hadn't been the warlocks but the way little band of time travelers was treated. All the doubt fell on them and the questions kept circling around whether or not they were lying. Alison in particular had gotten more and more snappish as the process had dragged on.

Will had erased all doubts he might have had. Jem believed them and had started out gently defensive when the questions started getting invasive or pushy but had become less gentle about it with each repetition. They were tired and hurt and deserved better. They'd been treated as prisoners and Jem had sincerely hoped that the Clave would treat them better than this.

Finally it was simply enough.

"It's time to go to sleep," Jem said interrupting someone in mid-sentence. He didn't even know who it was anymore. "If there aren't enough rooms here, I will pay for hotel rooms myself but it is time to sleep."

"There are rooms here, it is best if everyone stays here," Maryse said giving Jem a look that had everything to do with the fact that Will wasn't there. He didn't flinch. He smiled, small but pleasant, and didn't say anything.

He understood why she considered taking Will out of the group to be a reckless move but he did not agree, nor did he really care what opinions she might hold on the matter.

"Because you won't let us leave?" Trevor asked. The batwinged warlock who had raised the hellhounds was one of Jem's least favourite people at that moment. That he'd stayed during the fight seemed less an act of honesty or trying to do the right thing and more like cowardice. He was more afraid of the shadowy Dmitri than he was of the Clave. That was unsettling given how most warlocks who had lived through the days of Circle considered the Clave but it wasn't why he bothered Jem so much. He'd threatened Tessa and nearly gotten Will killed. That he'd done it out of ignorance and cowardice made it worse than an act of evil.

"Yes," Maryse said. "You will be staying here until other arrangements can be made."

It took more time after that to get everyone organized and settled. Jem found a spot near the library door and waited. He let his body fall back into old patterns. Still and expressionless not out of necessity but habit.

"He's your parabatai? The guy at the fight with the dark hair?" Jace had appeared at his shoulder and Jem turned and looked at him without changing his expression. He was too tired for expressions.

"Yes," Jem said. It had come up during the rounds of interrogation. Jem had simply told the truth and let the reactions go.

"You're sure though, that it's him. That's why you keep siding with the arrivals," Jace said, the little name had stuck thus far. "Could you feel it?"

"Yes, it came back," Jem said putting his hand to the rune without meaning too. Neither of them needed it explained.

"That'd be strange," Jace said.

Jem gave a little shrug. It was strange but it was also an impossible gift. It was a thing he'd wanted too much to even ask for in his own mind.

If he'd had been given a wish it would be to ask for one more conversation when they were both human. He wanted to sit with Will and be entirely himself. They had had only five years and Jem had never truly gotten to know Will as he was once the curse was gone. They'd been friends as best they could be but the Brotherhood had been a wall.

Looking back on it, there were not any other choices but Will had seen it as a type of abandonment. Jem had always known how much he would lose when he took that chance but he'd been able to see them grow and change, he'd been able to keep them safe if only from a distance. It was the right choice, the best one he could have made.

"He's related to me?" Jace made it a question.

"Distantly," Jem said and he knew it was a cagey response but Tessa had always been uncomfortable with starting that conversation with Jace and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. It wasn't untrue but it didn't feel like the right answer either.

Jem looked at Jace then. He didn't look like Will unless you were looking at the details. Jem had picked them out, the little bits of genetic flotsam that had made it down through the generations. Tessa told him he was a little odd for noticing that they had the same hands or that Jace rolled his eyes the same way that she did when he was annoyed. There was some resemblance in the smile too.

"I've never met another Herondale. Well, except for Imogen and she was… well, Imogen," Jace trailed off. Jem didn't suppress the smirk because she had certainly been a very particular sort of person.

"Will's one of the best," Jem said. "There are many reasons to be proud of that name up and down your family tree and Will is one of them. So was Imogen in a lot of ways. But Will was, is, always will be, my best friend. He's one of the best people you will every meet."

"Maryse wants you to bring him in," Jace said.

"I know," Jem said. "We will but I'm going to go sleep for a week before I do anything else. Maryse said she wanted to talk to me before I left."

"Just leave," Jace said. "They're talking about portals again in there. Just leave. If it had been a century since I'd seen Alec," he shrugged, "I'd just leave."

Jem smiled at him and then he turned and just left.

Bright afternoon sunlight slanted through a gap in the curtains by the time Jem made it home. The apartment was warm because sunlight always heated it up and the scent of smoke was in the air. It clung to his clothes and it must be clinging to everyone who had been there. The apartment was quiet. The sounds of the street below and even of the neighbours were muffled not just by thick glass and brick walls but also by magic.

They'd had an apartment in Macau for a little while with thin walls that had let the sound of their fighting neighbours in. Tessa had perfected sound wardings while they were living there. They had no idea if the neighbours here had happy marriages and they were perfectly happy without that knowledge.

Jem found Will and Tessa leaned together on the sofa in the living room. She had twisted towards him so she could tuck her head in against his chest. His fingers were still tangled in her hair. Jem paused on the stairs and looked at them.

They had been his touchstone for sixty years. Not only each of them but both of them. The yearly meetings with Tessa and the silent, stolen conversations with Will had been important, essential to hold onto his humanity. The two of them together though had meant something different. How much they had loved each other had been its own foundation for him. A way of proving that there was good in the world.

He had seen them together but he'd never gotten to see the moments like this. A part of him whispered that he should turn and leave them alone but a louder part needed to be sure that Will was truly there. Jem crossed the room quietly and touched his shoulder. Will scrunched up his face and grimaced.

"M'sleeping, go away, Carstairs," he said his voice was indistinct. Jem had forgotten these conversations. They'd been a regular occurrence once. Will would simply neglect to sleep and Jem would be left with the task of attempting to wake him the next day. Anyone else would suffer verbal abuse if they tried.

This time, Will didn't wake enough to realize he had someone sleeping on his chest but he still knew that it was Jem talking to him.

"We do have beds in this century," Jem said sitting down beside him.

"Don't care," Will said and when he shifted, probably intending to shove Jem away, he became aware of Tessa and his eyes flew open and he was suddenly completely awake. He looked down at the top of her head for a very long time before turning his attention and his dawning realization to Jem. It took him a long moment to remember where he was.

"You're fine, stay there," Jem said. Will had gone from relaxed to tense in an instant and he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands. Jem was too tired to know what needed saying to ease Will's anxiety that he'd done something wrong. He didn't know how to explain it without explaining entire lifetimes and he was too tired for that too.

He settled back on the sofa in so his shoulder was against Will's and reached across to where Tessa's head lay against the other one. He pushed her hair back from her face. She didn't stir but he hadn't expected her too. She would likely be asleep for another twelve hours yet.

Will schooled his expression and stayed in place. It was feigned relaxation but it was done quite well. His hair was a tangled mess of black curls, longer and wilder than it would be at any other point in his life. Jem touched a piece that stuck out at a funny angle from his forehead.

"You look ridiculous," Jem said dropping his hand back to his lap. He was being weird. He was often weird but he usually had social rules to fall back on when he forgot how people behaved normally. Mostly people didn't have to think about whether it was appropriate to shake hands or hug or tell funny stories. Jem had worked out through observation and faux pas when and with who it was ok to do most things.

Will didn't fit into any of the categories that Jem had taught himself to react to. Touching his hair didn't seem weird until after he'd done it.

"I style my hair with live ferrets. You encase your head in a glass bauble and then release the ferrets inside. It's the only way to get it to stand up like this," Will said with a perfectly straight face.

Jem looked at him, thinking hard because he was still trying to decide if he had crossed some social line. What Will had said hadn't made sense. The moment stretched before Jem started to laugh. He was tired and stressed and once he started laughing it was almost impossible to stop.

"Yours is the right colour now, if we got you some ferrets we could make you look almost as stylish as I do," Will said reaching over to ruffle Jem's hair into a mess. It made him laugh harder as he tried to pull away. Will got a fistful of shirt and dragged him back. Neither of them were fighting hard because they were trying not to wake Tessa. Jem stopped struggling and let Will push his hair up so it stuck up as well. That it stayed made him aware of how much he needed to wash the remains of the battle out of it.

He was still laughing when he sat back against the sofa. Will was smirking at him now and looked just like he did when Jem called up memories of him. His memories from before the Brotherhood were stretched thin but still more vibrant than the ones he had made during that time. Impressions, images, sounds, even smell didn't hold the way it did in his human memories. He could remember the facts but nothing that felt real the way his memories from before and after felt real. It was like 130 years of dreaming between the beginning of his life and the resumption of it.

This was Will as Jem could truly remember him. They had weeks left together at the point in history that Will had come from. That thought knocked out the last of the giggles that were plaguing him.

"Is this a madhouse?" Tessa asked blinking awake and pushing herself up enough to see him. Jem almost started laughing again just because he was relieved that she was well enough to talk or maybe just because he had both of them in the same place.

"This has always been a madhouse," Jem told her and then he kissed her. She was only half awake and she tasted of smoke but she was well and she was there. He pulled back sooner than he wanted to and far later than he should have when he remembered that he'd had to pull her across Will in order to do it. He dropped his hands where they had cupped her face but she stayed there with her hand braced on Will's leg and her face sleepy and confused.

"Are you hungry?" Jem asked her and the abrupt topic change made her frown.

"I'm hungry," Will said and everyone pulled back. Not far, just far enough that they weren't touching. He was rapidly covering an expression that might have been alarm or even horror. It was gone by the time Tessa turned the confused look at him. He gave her a pleasant smile that approximated normal far better than anyone else's expression did.

The food was microwavable dinners that Tessa picked at and Will declared disgusting though he ate three. Jem told them what had come out during the meeting though it wasn't much that they didn't already know. It comprised how the warlocks had been contacted anonymously and the Clave records of what had happened in Melbourne. The Melbourne records were spotty as after the uprising the city had closed its Institute and operated as a satellite of the not terribly large Sydney Institute until 2013.

Tessa collapsed into bed again and Jem left Will in the spare room after a brief lesson on how to use the shower and the rest of the bathroom before he went to join her. He wasn't sure if he would be able to sleep but he dropped off before he'd laid all the way down.

Tessa had washed her hair three times to get the scent of fire out of it before she'd braided it back and let it drip onto her shirt. If she had stopped to think she might have chosen a different outfit than the shorts and the tank top but she was still thinking through a fog of exhaustion. She could move without her muscles screaming but she was a long way from feeling like herself.

When the kitchen door opened, she thought it was Jem back from the emergency shopping trip he'd taken. Her smile broke before she'd even looked up from the book she'd spread on the table though she wasn't alert enough to truly read. It wasn't Jem.

It was Will.

He looked far too normal to be a time traveler or a survivor of multiple demon attacks only the day before. He must have washed his hair because it tumbled over his forehead in waves instead of snarls. It had been too dark and she'd been too distracted to really see the colour of his eyes the night before.

They widened just a fraction when she stood up. It reminded her too late that she wasn't wearing something that one should entertain in. She'd already made it halfway across the room by that point. By the time she'd considered going to get a robe she had thrown her arms around him and he staggered just a little under the force of it.

"I thought I had dreamed you," she said in a soft voice.

"While I recommend dreaming of me as I am rather wonderful, I do seem to truly be here," he said with a little laugh that wasn't quite happy. She pulled him in a little closer and he finally squeezed her back. He smelled like Jem. He'd borrowed the clothes and the soap she realized but that scent was enough to surprise her. He didn't smell like Will who had used soaps that had long ago become unavailable and had worn clothing that had been washed by hand in lye soaps.

She let him go but didn't step back. He held her gaze. She couldn't have said who was that held the other in place but neither moved back. Her fingers found their way to his hair and then down is temples to his eyes where he held perfectly still as she traced the shape of them very lightly. His lashes against her finger tips were butterfly light.

"I don't remember you like this," she said.

"You don't remember me?" he asked.

"I remember you. Of course I remember you but the you I remember is older. When I remember you, I remember you with gray here and laugh lines around your eyes. I would have said they'd been there since I met you but I guess not," she said rubbing her thumb along the skin near his eyes. "You look more like," she started but then shook that thought out of her head because it didn't bear saying. 'You look more like Jamie than I thought you did,' was not something she could say to him.

"You're managing the differences well," she said because she couldn't fall silent.

"I considered running off and hiding behind drapery. Perhaps I could spend some time cowering until a servant found me but as you don't appear to have any servants I was left with having to manage," Will said. The comment was absurdly specific and it took Tessa a long time to place it.

That was what Nate had done.

When he'd found himself among the Shadowhunters, he had run off and been found by Cyril - no, not Cyril, Thomas, Thomas had told her where he was and it had been the last time she'd spoken to him before he'd died - Nate had been found by Thomas hiding behind a drapery.

And suddenly it crashed into her. The fog cleared and she was left with the stark truth. It wasn't an idea or a possibility. It wasn't a fever dream or a case of mistaken identity. This wasn't a boy who looked like Will. This wasn't a whispered conversation that maybe he was here. No, this was Will. Will at the very beginning of his life. Will who didn't know that they'd been married. Will who had only just escaped his curse. Will who was solid under her hands.

She ran her hands down his arm and found the place where the spiraling scar should have started but didn't because it wouldn't happen until he was in his thirties. She found the training scar on the back of his hand where he had dropped a throwing knife while trying to show off. He had told her that story while laughing. They hadn't been dressed at the time. She found the space on his arm where the rune for marriage was not and resisted tracing the shape of it with her fingers.

"Tessa?" he asked and when she looked up at him, his expression was all concern. He'd looked at her like that when she'd been talked into going to Idris to help one of the Lightwoods manage Downworld affairs in war torn areas of Europe where the Clave was trying to regain control of the wannabe warlords and that one errant pack werewolves running amok. He'd looked at her like that when she'd gone into labour early with their second child.

Her vision blurred.

"Tess," his voice was different and she realized she was crying as he pulled her in so that her head was against his shoulder. He'd been home for so long and it had taken so long to rebuild her life without having him there. She pulled back from him and he let her go reluctantly. His hands still held hers and she was loath to break that last bit of contact.

"I'm sorry," she said in a voice that didn't quite sound like it belonged to her. She turned and left the room. His touch stayed with her as she fled like his skin left residue.

In the bathroom she tried to wash her face but crumpled down to sit on the edge of the bathtub and attempt to smother the worst of the tears with a towel. She reached down for all the ways she had found to keep her emotions in check but all those methods had been learned in the years after she'd lost him. They shattered around her because he was here. He was here and he didn't know who he was yet. He was here and he was real and he wasn't really her Will yet.

Will stood in the kitchen pushing buttons on things and listening for Tessa. She wasn't crying any longer but he didn't know where she was or what she was doing.

He discovered that the dials on the stove allowed you to light it. He'd almost set his arm on fire with that discovery. The little box with the glass door lit up and the tray turned but he had no idea how it cooked anything. The radio was his most recent discovery when Jem made it home.

He didn't know that the radio itself was nearly 40 years old and had been built behind the iron curtain. It had moved with Tessa through multiple apartments. Jem found him playing with the dials to find different stations and making faces in reaction to the music and the news. When he came in the room, Will turned the machine over in his hand twice before he turned the volume knob down to zero. It wasn't quite off but it did the same thing.

"Something's wrong," Jem said.

"Am I that easy to read?" Will asked.

"Not to most people, just to me," Jem said.

"Even if I lived to be atrociously old, I've been dead for 50 years. More likely, I died in a ditch before I was 25. You haven't seen me in a long time," Will said.

"You did not die in a ditch, you asshole," Jem said in that placid voice he used whenever he thought Will was being unreasonable. "Still, something's upset you," he spoke as he pulled food and boxes out of a bag and dumped them over the counter. It was a clear sign the conversation about Will's death was not to be opened. Jem was probably right, he probably didn't want to know but the morbid little bit of curiosity crawled up his spine.

"It's nothing," Will lied effectively to everyone else but Jem had always accepted his lies rather than believed them. Now he didn't accept the lie. He looked at Will and pulled himself up to sit on the counter top and look at him.

Will couldn't explain what it was that was bothering him. Tessa's skin had still been warm and just a little damp from her bath when she'd thrown herself into his arms and his stupid mind wouldn't stop playing that moment for him over and over again. That moment where she'd caught herself against him the night before received almost as many showings. She'd been close enough that he had felt the way her stomach muscles tightened and he had been able to watch exactly how her jaw had moved to answer Jem's kiss.

Jem had been so careful and polite after that moment. It had been a brief glimpse into the little world they'd only started building when he'd seen them last. Tessa had looked so surprised when he'd pulled away from her, like she'd forgotten that there was anyone else in the room. Jem had held her attention utterly. Will's heart broke all over again.

"I made her cry," Will said which wasn't the whole explanation but it was the thing that had been needling his conscience since she'd left the room in a flurry of tears and apologies.

"Does that surprise you?" Jem asked.

"I was hardly expecting it," Will said.

"You died, not in a ditch and not drunk or any other ridiculous story you want to tell yourself but you did die, William," Jem said it very directly but there was weight in the words.

Will's instinct to turn it into a joke faded. He had been expecting Jem's death since they'd been introduced and even so the idea of it had never been tolerable. He'd feared losing him, he'd had nightmares about being left alone in empty rooms, he'd imagined the day but he'd never accepted it.

And for all that preparation, Jem had been the one to live it. He'd been the one who had to live on alone. Will swallowed down every smart ass comment that his mind threw out. He would not want to hear sarcasm from Jem if it were Jem standing in his kitchen decades are his death.

"It's not an old wound," Will said trying to imagine that loss if it had been his. If he had lost Jem and not the other way around.

"It is," Jem said with a sad smile, "But old wounds can still cause pain. You were important to her. You still are. Even if you weren't standing here, you would still be important to her. We lost you, we continue to mourn you and now you are here. I am so glad to see you again that I haven't started crying yet."

"Were you planning on it?" Will asked noting but choosing to ignore that easy use of 'we' again.

"No, but I'm expecting those emotions to hit me soon," Jem said with an elegant shrug. He waved Will over and when they stood face to face Jem took his shoulders and smiled. Each time he did that he forced Will to accept that those dark eyes were Jem's and the colour didn't matter. Jem started to speak and stopped twice. Sitting on the counter made Jem just a little taller than he was.

"What?" Will asked.

"Do you want me to ask her to stop touching you?" Jem asked and Will's stomach lurched sideways.

"Don't look at me like that, you've done nothing wrong. I just," Jem stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. Will found himself doing the thing he always did when Jem wasn't looking. He checked to see how dark the shadows under his eyes were, how pale his skin was, if he was breathing evenly, if there were tremors in his wrists. Nothing. Not an inch of evidence that he had ever been ill a day in his life.

"If you ask her to stop it would sound like a rebuke. If I ask it will sound like jealousy," Jem said. "I'd rather she think I was jealous than think that you were upset with her."

"Are you?" Will asked.

"Jealous?" Jem asked, "No. Are you upset with her?"

The truth was that yes, she upset every rational thought he had ever believed himself capable of but the second truth was that he didn't want to give up the chance that she might throw herself into his arms again.

"No," Will said, "You don't need to ask her to stop on my behalf. She hasn't done anything that made me uncomfortable."

"Like pull someone into your lap and kiss them?" Jem asked.

"That was interesting," Will said in as flat a voice as he could conjure up.

"I apologize for it. It was wildly inappropriate and I will not do anything like that again," Jem said squeezing his shoulders and looking like he meant it.

A traitorous little voice came from the same place in the back of Will's mind that insisted on reminding him that Tessa had bit her lip the same way after kissing Jem as she had before wrapping her arms around him. The voice told him that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it did happen again. Will nodded because he didn't trust himself to not let that voice out to ask the things it wanted to know about Tessa's lips.

Jem looked at him in a way that told him more than he had expected. It succeeded in blowing the thoughts of Tessa's mouth from his mind. He'd put in so much effort to be make sure this would never happened.

Jem knew.

"Did she tell you?" Will asked.

"No, you did," Jem said. "I should have seen it. You're supposed to be easy for me to read after all. Once I knew, I couldn't imagine having missed it but I did. I found out on my death bed," his expression went from calm to distressed to artificially cheerful in a split second, "That's another story though, right now it is 5 in the morning and I need coffee before anything goes wrong today."

"I should give you lessons on deflecting topics of conversation. Honest people are terrible at lying. That was not artfully done," Will said.

"I'm not lying, I need coffee. Yes, I also don't want to talk about anyone dying. Both things can be true," Jem had been holding his shoulders the whole time. His hands were warm through the thin fabric of the shirt. Now he turned him and shoved him gently across the room. "Go get me mugs and the thing that you put milk in, the little jug thing. And sugar. You like stupid amounts of sugar in things don't you? There should be sugar on the second shelf in a little bowl that matches the jug thing."

Will pulled them out and laughed. The little jug and bowl did indeed match. They were made of fine white china though it was obvious that the handle to the jug had been glued back on at some point in its history. They were painted with a pair of rabbits. The dyes from the paint were just faded but not indistinct.

"My parents had this same set. I think my mother's mother gave them to her or some such thing. I'll bet these came from the same shop. If that's true these must be close to two hundred years old," Will said.

"Probably, Tessa doesn't own dishes bought in the last fifty years. The flatware is a rather odd collection," Jem said.

Will put them near the gurgling contraption that was beginning to smell like coffee before settling in to watch Jem cook with a kind of fascination. It wasn't that he was particularly good at it or particularly bad at it. It was just that cooking was not a thing that gentlemen of good breeding did. Other people cooked. A lady might bake but not a man.

He got about five minutes of watching before Jem started giving orders. The first few instructions were easy, chopping things into small pieces wasn't difficult. He hadn't thought breaking eggs would be difficult either but Will hadn't cracked an egg since he was ten years old and had helped his mother make Christmas tarts.

Jem leaned over the dish when it was done, his shoulder bumping Will's. He'd only done it a handful of times but it was becoming a comfort. The warmth and weight of him when he leaned in pulled all of Will's attention.

"Omelettes aren't meant to be crunchy," he said and Will responded with a swear word but picked out the bits of shell that had fallen inside and then wiped his fingers on Jem's sleeve. Jem responded to that with a different swear word and Will thought that was the worst he would get.

It wasn't. Tessa walked into the room just as Jem blew a spoonful of flour into Will's face. There wasn't even flour in any of the recipes they were using. He'd pulled it out for the purpose of flinging it around.

Tessa said a completely different swear word as she back pedaled out of the room.

"Madhouse," Tessa said from the hallway. "Flour will catch fire you idiots, if you burn down my house after last night I will never forgive you."

"You'd forgive me," Jem said kissing her on the cheek as he walked by to put coffee things in the other room. He'd simply dropped the fight when she'd appeared. Will brushed white powder out of his hair and off his face. Tessa smiled at him from the doorway and it was a smile that made his heart rate change. It was a smile that spoke of a home he would never get to have.

This place was a home and with the two of them in it it was obvious that it was their home. The colours were rich and varied, greens and browns, reds and purples, a splash of yellow in the form of a silk banner that hung from one wall. The books and the music stand and the art were all theirs. The space felt personal in a way that the drawing rooms that Will was used to never did.

Will drank his coffee but didn't try to fill the silence as it stretched. It was awkward and then it wasn't. He had sat in silence with Jem hundreds of times without the need to fill the empty spaces with nattering. The questions he wanted answered could wait. There wasn't room for him here but he liked the idea that he could pretend that this was his home too.


	9. Anna

Jem played snippets of things on the violin but wouldn't commit to a piece. It might have been annoying but it made Tessa smile. It was a little like knowing what he was thinking. She knew exactly which melody was playing in his head and why he wouldn't play it while Will was in the room. He wanted to play the story of Will's life. Each snippet of song failed when he started to turn it into that other melody and stopped himself.

Jem sat by the window with his feet up on a second chair and picked at the strings or ruffled through the sheet music in the shallow wooden box beside him. Every few months he'd reorganize the music based on some new system but within days it would be a disaster again. It was a mess right now. He knew where things were but it was all shuffled together in a way that made no sense to her at all.

Tessa could see both of them from where she stood on the balcony. Will had been reading through her book titles. She was waiting for him to start asking questions but he hadn't yet. He was just pulling things off the shelves and reading the covers or a few pages before sliding them back into place. She found herself watching his fingers as they ran over the spines or pinched at pages. His fingers were long and more graceful than fingers really had a right to be.

She had spent a life time waking up to graceful fingers playing through her hair or over her skin. She looked back at the city and hoped that the darkness would cover the fact that she was blushing. Some memories were just words or fragments of images but others still held all their strength. This one came with enough force that she half expected to find his hands on her shoulder on their way to trace down her back.

Sunrise was coming and she could see the sky starting to lighten. She tested her magic but it was still stretched too thin to work properly. She was no longer deeply ill but she hadn't regained enough strength to do any magic without it hurting.

"Will?" she said and braced herself for when he looked up from the bookshelf to meet her gaze. Dark blue and unmistakable his eyes kept shaking her fragile ability to keep her composure. She wasn't going to sob on him again. She simply wasn't. He'd been treating her carefully since she'd done it and she didn't want to make him more nervous.

She reached out a hand and motioned him out onto the balcony. Jem looked up at them but didn't say anything. He ruffled back through the music again and started an actual song instead of just fragments. She couldn't name it but it was all softness and quiet mornings. Will started to take her hand and then pulled away. She leaned forward and grabbed his hand before he was out of reach. Will across the room she could manage but Will close enough to touch wasn't something she could resist.

"Don't look down right away," she said smiling at him and holding his hand. There were these moments of hesitation in him when she touched him before he responded and the smile seemed to break the hesitation and his fingers wrapped around hers.

"What am I looking at?" he asked.

"Sunrise over New York," she said pulling him in a little closer to her and the railing. He was warm and tense. Her voice was quieter and gentler than it needed to be when she said, "We're very high."

Jem was still playing and Tessa looked over at him. He gave her a small smile. He was barefoot which had once seemed almost indecent to her but had long ago just become a part of Jem at home. It was either the battered blue shoes or nothing. He hadn't bothered getting dressed and the pajamas he wore had a hole in one of the legs, probably a gift from the cat. He looked like home. She held his eyes and let the music wrap itself around her for a moment until she was steady enough to speak to Will.

"The sun rises along the buildings here," she said pointing past him with her free hand. The sun was just breaking over the tops of the lower buildings to paint the world in orange. Will followed her finger and she took a second to stare not at the view but at him. He'd been beautiful every day of his life but there was something incredible about the lines of his face in the early morning light. Unconsciously she squeezed his hand a little tighter and he answered it.

They stood together until she wavered. The floor was suddenly unsteady or maybe it was her feet. Her balance went. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her fingers were holding onto his not for comfort but to keep herself upright.

"Tess?" he said.

"I'll be fine," she said but had to force the words out. Panic curled in the pit of her stomach but she was too tired to give it the voice it wanted.

"Inside, now," Jem said. She hadn't noticed the music stopping but he stood in the doorway looking alert and concerned. The bow was in his hand but not the instrument itself.

Inside the apartment the weakness faded and she could see what had alarmed Jem. The warding was usually invisible but when it was under attack it glowed. It was a sort of built in warning.

It glowed now.

Lines of magic were joined by knots of runes. Unlike most warding, Tessa's wasn't purely warlock magic. There were Gray Book runes scattered here and there. The mix of magics made the barrier stronger. She'd learned that while still living with the Clave. By calling on two types of magic, she had woven stronger barriers with less effort. It was technically illegal but no one had ever been in a position to notice except for Jem.

"We need to leave," she said in a moment of panic. "If it comes down whatever is pushing on it will be able to get in."

"I don't think you can. You started collapsing before the wards started glowing. I'm not taking you out into whatever it is," Jem told her. He waved at the walls and the space in front of the windows where the magic glowed and pulsed, "It's holding. You spent months on this, Tess, it will hold."

"Were you expecting this?" Will asked. "This is some powerful defensive magic."

"It's better to expect the worst," Tessa said with a little half shrug. She just barely caught Will's concerned look before the magic shuddered and pulled her attention. She didn't need to hold the spells, they'd been drawn and cast and held on their own but the crackling magic still set her on edge. Usually if she needed to she could catch the magic if it started to fall but that wouldn't be possible today. It brought that twist of panic back.

Tessa turned and went for the phone. Will still held her hand and he didn't drop it immediately. She was walking away before his fingers let go of hers. He was lost and confused for a moment and Jem caught her eye and the silent agreement to pretend they hadn't seen it passed between them. Will was smooth and confident again a moment later.

At the phone, she dialed a familiar number and Jem caught up to her and stood close. He didn't touch her first. As the phone rang she shut her eyes and leaned. She knew that Jem would be there and he was, solid and warm and wonderful. She'd been pretending that it was over, that this morning was peaceful and safe and not the day after an attack in a battle that wasn't over.

"Magnus?" she said when he answered.

"No, me," Alec said. "Um, Alec."

"I know who you are Alec," she said. "Something's trying to get into my house, can Magnus come and check my warding for me?"

She hadn't introduced herself but either call display or the familiarity of her voice had identified her. She was surprised by how even her voice sounded. She sounded calm and confident and unruffled even to her own ears.

She was none of those things. She was still fighting back the urge to cry over Will and nothing had attacked her wardings at any of her houses in a long time. In five years, every home she and Jem had built together was safe and secure. That something was trying to batter down the walls now was deeply unsettling.

And with that thought, she was immediately angry. How dare this bastard follow them home?

"I have to go the Institute, like now, fifteen minutes ago really," Alec said.

"Oh," Tessa said the flash of anger fading as quickly as it had come on. She couldn't yell at Alec over this. Being angry wasn't going to help and so she just let it drain away.

Magnus and Jem had befriended the whole little crew of Shadowhunters from the New York Institute and Tessa had found herself spending time with them. Not a lot, not really, but more time than she had spent with Shadowhunters since she had left the Clave behind a lifetime before.

Of that group, Alec was the one Tessa knew best. It didn't matter that Jace was family or that she had known Clary since she was an infant. Tessa often saw Clary as Jocelyn's child more than as a woman in her own right though that was changing a little more each time they spoke. She hadn't told Jace who she was, it wasn't a conversation she knew how to start, and the secret stood between any true attempts at building a friendship.

None of that baggage stood between her and the Lightwoods. Alec was the one she knew best because Alec was the one that Magnus cared about. Magnus had married him. Magnus had built a life with him. Tessa loved Alec for making Magnus happy, for bringing Magnus back to earth when he needed it.

Alec was the calm center to everyone else's hurricanes. He was the counter balance to Jace's impulses. He brought out all the softer parts of Magnus that no one else ever got to see. Magnus was not often a person with a home, places to stay yes, lavish places to stay but never really a home. Tessa had never seen him build something like he had built with Alec.

She looked up at the wards. Nothing was giving an inch. They wobbled with the attacks but didn't bend. Jem was right. Now that the initial panic and rage of being attacked at home was gone she could see that. The wards weren't going to collapse. There were few places that were safer.

"It's secure here. He can bring her, just leave the portal open in case we need to drop her back through," Tessa said to Alec.

The little girl Alec and Magnus had taken in was only two years old. Far too young to be left alone. Neither of them had quite known what to do with a baby when they'd found themselves with her sitting in their laps. Magnus did not have many friends who had had children and so he had called Tessa more than either of them admitted to ask all manner of questions from the exceptionally mundane to the terrifyingly profound. How to deal with teething was a very different sort of question from how to tell if you were ruining a child's future. Tessa had fielded many of them.

"I'm not sure about that," Alec started but then the phone rustled.

"What?" Magnus growled into the phone.

"Why are you so pissy?" Tessa asked.

"Oh," he said, "Not who I thought you were. And don't ask who I thought you were. What's up?"

She explained what was going on and heard the flurry of argument - though not the actual words as Magnus and Alec talked with the phone held away.

"Should I bring wine?" Magnus asked when the argument had settled. Tessa wasn't sure what it had been about or what the decision had been.

"Only if you can find that blue label stuff from Paris on such short notice," she said. Tessa didn't have many true friends and she had no friends who knew her as well as Magnus did. It didn't need explained what he was really asking or what she was really saying.

In first years just after she had lost Will, Tessa had found Magnus in Paris. They had drank cheap wine while talking about love and loss and whether it was all worth it. The night that Tessa had started making lists of reasons to keeping moving forward they had been drinking their way through a case of blue labeled Bordeaux. It had been one of the few cheap wines they'd found that was truly good.

The first list that night had just been names of people she loved but there would be others in the months and years to come. Lists of places to see and things to do and books to read. She still had them all, bundled together in a little leather folder. She hadn't read any of them since writing them but she held onto them in case she ever needed them again.

Magnus was asking her how upset she was to have Will there. She was telling him that it hurt but she was holding herself together. Not even Jem would be able to understand what she was saying.

"Don't doubt my skills, Gray. If that vineyard still exists, I'll find it. Give me ten and I'll drop in," he said.

She laughed softly and looked at the warding again. It was still being tested but it wasn't showing any weak spots. It wasn't an attack now, it was an exploration. Magnus might be able to see weakness that she missed as he was simply more experienced. She was deeply grateful that he would come by just to check.

Tessa turned to Will and Jem and found them involved in a conversation that didn't include as many words as normal people used. They were talking through the same contingencies and worries that Tessa was running in her head but they were doing it with two people instead of just one. When Tessa had sat down to talk to Magnus, Jem had pulled Will to the side and she could just barely hear their conversation.

She could count number of times she'd seen them together like this, bouncing ideas back and forth, both alive and painted in vibrant colours. It didn't feel like a high enough number. All of the reservations Jem had with other people fell away with Will. Tessa had never seen it from the outside before.

She didn't put herself into it. She slipped out of the room and waved off Jem's silent offer to come with her. Will didn't notice. He would look up in ten minutes and be surprised that she'd moved but for now all the intensity of his energy was focused on Jem.

The pretext that she was going to check her warding in the other rooms fell away as soon as she was alone. She wrapped her arms around her waist and gathered all the little pieces of her heart together. They'd been broken and regathered so many times that it took a lot to rattle them loose. Each shard had been fit back into place and held there first with effort then by habit and then by Jem.

It wasn't her loss that left her leaning against the wall with its glowing pattern of magic. It was Jem's. Jem who hadn't had a lifetime with Will there to bounce ideas and jokes off of. Jem who kept cracking little half smiles whenever he was reminded that Will was in the room. Tessa had thought once that it must be easier to not have the weight of those years together to press on the broken pieces but it wasn't true.

Jem wasn't crying and she had to pull herself in tight to avoid doing it for him. Her anger flashed back. When the next prod came at the warding she hurled the last little bit of magic she had left at it. The wards stretched and amplified the magic. She hoped that it had worked and it had hurt to be on the other side it.

"Leave us alone," she said and sank down to put her head on her knees as the dizziness came back.

Notes:

Just take a second and imagine Magnus calling Tessa and asking for baby advice. Just imagining it makes me happy.

I love writing Dad Magnus a lot. I will probably write more standalone Dad Magnus in the future.


	10. Different Magics

They found Tessa curled up on the floor in the bedroom and Jem was hit by a wave of guilt that was so strong it was almost nausea. He gathered her into his arms without being able to speak. He'd been so worried about Will, so glad that Will was there, that he hadn't been paying nearly enough attention to how well she was. She had stood strong and confident, her voice had been clear, she'd made eye contact and smiled. He hadn't realized that she was weak enough to collapse.

"Don't worry," Tessa said into his neck as he pulled her in close. He couldn't even find a voice to tell her how sorry he was but she twisted her fingers into his shirt and pulled his attention down to her. He didn't need to say it. She could read it on his face.

"I'm fine, I'm stupid but I'm fine. I hit back and I shouldn't have, I wasn't strong enough for it but I'm not hurt. You can stop looking at me like that any time now," she said.

"You're a liar on all counts. You are not stupid and you are not fine," Jem said. If she had demanded he put her down he might have believed her when she said that she was fine but she let herself be carried. Tessa hated to be coddled. That she leaned in and didn't argue was more worrying than finding her on the floor.

He took her back to the main room because that was where the heart of the magic was. Though the warding was literally fading back into the woodwork, he wanted to be where he could see it if it flared again before Magnus arrived. He didn't put her down this time. He sat down and she arranged herself so that she could lean into him. Her hair smelled of some sort of floral shampoo but the harsh tang of the fire lingered beneath it.

He pressed his mouth to her hair and breathed in the scent of her. Silent Brothers had no use for the sense of smell so it vanished during the initiation. He couldn't remember if it was a specific rune or a side effect of something else. He'd been surprised when he left how strongly scents were tied to memories. It was a thing he had forgotten. This mix of floral and acrid and under it all the smell of her skin would call up memories of this day for decades.

The guilt eased as she whispered little reassuring things and jokes that didn't make sense and cuddled herself in tight to his side. They weren't alone but the moment didn't have space for other people. Will wasn't far away but he must have understood that he wasn't a part of this. Jem felt his attention on them but then he disappeared into the kitchen. A part of Jem wanted to apologize but that would have meant getting up and he wasn't ready to let go of Tessa yet. He wouldn't be until he was sure she was recovering.

When Magnus arrived a few minutes later with a tiny blue hurricane in his arms, it was Will who met them. They didn't come in through the door. They simply appeared in the room and Jem heard Will's surprised noise and then a child's giggle.

"Your warding looks fine," Magnus said from the rail above Jem's head. He had appeared in the entrance way and now looked down over the living room. He wore a bright yellow t-shirt advertising a place in Peru and he looked almost normal by Magnus standards. There was glitter in his hair but it looked less like it was there intentionally than that it simply couldn't be washed out anymore.

"Ten minutes ago it was a Christmas tree," Jem said.

"That's a strange decorating choice for July," Magnus told him.

The little girl perched in Magnus's arms had skin an almost indigo blue with ears just too large and too pointed to be human. Not quite a bat's but closer to that than human. Her hair was a riot of black curls and her eyes were a sky blue that matched Alec's surprisingly well. She wore denim overalls with flowers embroidered on the knees, a pink t-shirt and she carried a plastic sword in one hand. She brandished the weapon and giggled again and Jem smiled in spite of everything.

"Hello Banana," he said.

"Anna!" Tessa said turning over so that she could lie down with her head on Jem's lap and look up at the little girl.

"Tessa magic," Anna said and it was half order, half giggle.

"No Tessa magic today, little one," Tessa said. "I'm not feeling well."

"Rainbow Tessa magic," Anna said pouring emphasis onto the word rainbow. Will looked bemused as he looked between the child and Magnus with his eyebrows up. He looked anywhere that wasn't at Tessa. Jem felt a flare of guilt for flaunting their togetherness but letting go of her felt too much like abandoning her. Their fingers were twisted together and the little knot of their hands rested on her stomach. Jem couldn't leave her alone when she was like this.

Magnus reached a hand out behind the little girl's head where she couldn't see it and whispered a spell. Tessa's hair spilled down rainbow from the top of her head. It was spread out across his lap and the strands that had been brown were now bright pink and orange. It was a glamour and if Jem worked on it he could see through it but it was a very good glamour.

"No," Anna shook her head. "No. Tessa magic. Not Daddy magic, Tessa magic."

Magnus came down the stairs and deposited the child on top of Tessa. Tessa struggled to sit up before the toddler could take a seat in the middle of her chest and poke her in the nose. Instead the girl had to take a seat on her lap and poke her in the nose. Jem couldn't see her face but he knew the radiant smile she always gave the little girl.

"She can tell the difference?" Will asked. He had followed Magnus down and was still looking for an explanation.

"She's a warlock baby," Tessa said. "She can tell the difference between her magics. Most warlock babies aren't raised by warlocks but it's as easy as learning your colours if you have a good teacher. Do you have a good teacher Banana?"

"Daddy says he going to teach me swords," Anna brandished her plastic sword and Tessa had to duck back against Jem to avoid taking it to the face. She wasn't talking about Magnus. Magnus was not the person you wanted to be teaching you 'swords.'

"Someday, when you are not so small," Magnus said.

"Banana here is Magnus's daughter," Jem said for Will's benefit. "She was only about a week old when they took her in. Her name is Anna Lightwood and she is two. She once punched me in the face and gave me a black eye. She claims it was an accident."

"Two and a half," Anna said with all the indignant toddler attitude she could muster. Though they shared no blood, she had learned to roll her eyes in exactly the same way as her father. From Alec she had collected a serious smile that started small and bloomed for only special people.

"Lightwood?" Will asked at the same time.

"Bane isn't really a good family name," Magnus said. He stood with his back to everyone near the wall. His fingers flicked infrequently as he looked over the wards. "Alec wanted to make it very clear to his father, the Clave and anyone else who thought they'd have an opinion on her that she was a part of the family. The Lightwoods have historically been such a bland family, they need a little blue on the family tree, I think."

"You married a Lightwood and had a baby," Will said in a very flat voice. Jem glanced at him and he was looking back. They shared a tiny flicker of smile.

"Adopted technically. We didn't actually make her, there are issues of biology at play in that," Magnus said frowning up at the bookcases though he wasn't really seeing books. He was scanning magic.

"I thought all Lightwoods looked alike," Will said with a wider version of that flicker of smile he'd shown Jem. Magnus turned and looked at him out the corner of his eye. The light in the room caught on his cat's eye and it shone gold for a moment.

"Gildenstern and Gertrude or whatever the most recent generation was called when you were running about London did look alike. I stand by that. They were better men than their father but most gnats are better men than their father was. My god, it's been 150 years and I still remember him. That's saying something I prefer to forget the unpleasant ones," Magnus said, "Alec is not them, neither the sons nor the father."

"But he is a Shadowhunter and he is a Lightwood. The Clave allowed him to marry a man, a not human man, and give a not human child a Shadowhunter name?" Will said.

"Allow implies that permission was asked," Magnus said. "I am the warlock representative on the Council and Alec almost died in a demon realm saving the world. Blind eye is probably more apt. They just pretend Alec doesn't do things they don't like. They attempt to pretend he doesn't exist but no one has tried to push him out of the Clave."

"Yet," Tessa said.

"You're a ball of fucking sunshine aren't you?" Magnus said over his shoulder and then made a face that said he hadn't intended to swear in the same room as the little girl. Anna wasn't paying any attention. She was busy making faces at Tessa.

"Shiny and bright," Tessa said with faux enthusiasm before her voice became serious and she said, "The Clave doesn't like different and the Clave doesn't like change."

"I am aware," Magnus said. "I have known them longer than you have."

"But they've never tried to destroy your family. It's a singular experience," Tessa said and before Will could ask a question she wasn't prepared to answer she pressed on, "How is the warding? What needs adjusted?"

What followed was a conversation that made no sense to Jem. As much as he tried to understand Tessa's magic it never got any clearer. She played with the baby and talked about magic and Jem just watched her. He watched the way she held Anna like having a child in her arms was the most natural thing in the world. The girl kept trying to pick pieces of glamour off her hair and Tessa untangled her fingers again and again without losing the thread of the conversation she was having with Magnus.

There was a lull in the conversation that told Jem he had missed something. He looked a question at Will first. It was an old habit that had come back immediately. Will was here so he looked to Will first but Will was as distracted by Tessa making faces and laughing at the ones Anna made as he was. He looked to Magnus instead.

Magnus gave him a look that made him wish he knew the warlock better. There were nuances to the head tilt and half smile that Jem didn't understand at all. Tessa would have understood it but she was still too distracted by the baby.

"When did it start?" Magnus repeated.

"About a half hour ago, maybe less," Jem said though they were all still watching the show that Tessa and Anna were putting on.

"I should bring her around here more often," Magnus said. "Anastasia what are you doing to Tessa's hair?"

"Ah-nn-ah," Anna told him still twisting her fingers into Tessa's hair. She might have been trying to separate the colours but she was only succeeding in making a tangle.

"Mariana?" Magnus suggested. He didn't conceal his smile.

"Anna," she said as she stuck her lower lip out in a pout. It was as contrived as Magnus pretending he didn't know her name. Jem tried very hard not to let himself imagine what it might be like to have a daughter of his own to tease.

"Antonietta, let go of her hair," Magnus said and Anna released the ball of still rainbow hair that she had been holding in both tiny fists. Some places were brown again where she had succeeded in stripping off the glamour with her unreliable baby magic.

"I am Anna," she said crossing her arms in a gesture that was obviously stolen from an adult in her life and made Will start to laugh hard enough that he had to catch a hand on the bookshelf.

"I swear you looked at me exactly like that the night I bled all over Camille's carpet," Will said looking at the girl and then back at Magnus. Anna turned the glare on Will and looked at him a little confused. Jem suspected she hadn't noticed there was a stranger in the room before that moment.

Tessa waved him over and he came to sit on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. He sat just far enough away that he wasn't really sitting with them. Tessa had gathered all her hair and tossed it back over her shoulder and Jem idly played with the strands.

He had woken into a world that treated touch very differently than the century of his birth and for a long time he had found the public displays of affection uncomfortable. Some things were not appropriate when other people were around but he'd stopped letting many century old manners get in the way of touching Tessa. It had been conscious at first but it had become almost an instinct. He held her hand, let his arm linger around her waist, played with her hair.

He did it without thinking about it until he caught the flicker of Will's attention and dropped his hand. Tessa either didn't notice or ignored them. She reached out and waited until Will put his hand in hers and then pulled him a little closer. He let himself be drawn in so he sat across from them. Magnus dropped down beside him and gave Tessa a look that might have been a warning.

"Anna," Tessa said turning the girl to look at Will. She was suddenly and uncharacteristically shy, leaning into Tessa and looking at her father for reassurance. "Anna this is Will. He's a friend of ours. He comes from way back when and proper introductions were important then. Can I introduce him?"

Magnus nodded at the little girl who turned and nodded at Tessa.

"William Herondale, may I present Miss Anna Lightwood," Tessa said in a mock formal tone. Will barely hesitated before he gave the girl a little bow and then kissed her on the back of her tiny blue hand. She giggled again and it broke the spell of the shyness.

"You got funny magic," she said to Will. She stood up in Tessa's lap and leaned forward to push her hands against Will's face. She did it far faster than anyone expected. Will jumped in a way that was undignified enough to be called flailing and Magnus caught the child before she fell to the floor. Tessa laughed short and hard as much in surprise as anything else.

"Funny magic?" Will asked when he'd caught his breath after the shock of having a child launch herself at his head.

"Funny funny," Anna told him and then started to giggle again as though it was truly comedic. Magnus held the giggling child in his arms and looked between her and Will a few times. Whatever she could see, he couldn't.

"Stay still," Magnus said and then reached out to do exactly what his daughter had done a moment before. He grabbed Will's head so that his palm was against Will's forehead. Will made a protesting noise but didn't jerk away. It was a testament to how much he trusted Magnus. Jem couldn't imagine very many people who Will would tolerate grabbing his face.

Magnus frowned and passed Anna to Jem with one arm. He collected the squirming child and returned her to Tessa. She crawled out of Tessa's lap and back into his immediately. Tessa sat facing away from Jem as she leaned against his shoulder. Her bewitched hair fell against Jem and Anna sat on his lap so she could reach for it. All Tessa's attention was on Will and Magnus. Jem was left to manage the baby by himself. He pulled Tessa's hair away from tiny fingers and dropped it back over her shoulder to the other side.

Will pressed his lips together in a line and everyone waited for Magnus to make a diagnosis of what 'funny magic' actually meant. Will was annoyed and the longer Magnus fussed with magic no one else could sense the more annoyed he got. Jem leaned forward and kicked him gently in the leg in a warning that Will didn't really need any more. Will's expression smoothed out into exaggerated calm. Jem snorted. Will looking calm and serene while someone held him by the face was hilarious.

"It isn't coming from him," Magnus said. "Anna?"

Deprived of Tessa's hair to pull, Anna had flopped sideways over Jem's arm and was pulling Tessa's stack of paperbacks apart because she thought it was funny that each time she dropped one Jem would pick it up again. She looked at Magnus and sat as still as Jem had ever seen her. She frowned. He rarely called her by her proper name without some bizarre addition. Jem had heard her called Anna the Glitter Zebra once and Ms Anna McFanna Ice Queen another.

"Can you tell me what the funny magic looks like?" Magnus asked her gently. She held out her hands to him and he scooped her up. Will looked relieved to have the hand off his face. Jem loved watching Magnus with Anna. She managed to turn him from High Warlock to marshmallow without any effort at all.

Anna waved her hands at Will's head and he leaned back just a bit in case he was about to get his face grabbed again. "Funny, bubbly, orange," she pronounced.

"Bubbly," Magnus said. "Like it's floating?"

"Bubbles! Orange and bubbles and canIhaveacookieplease?" Anna said running the last phrase together until it was a single word.

"You can have a cookie with your lunch," Magnus told her before turning back to Will, "There's a spell following you or maybe it is just portal residue. That couldn't have been a small portal you stepped through. We're going to need a seer who isn't distracted by cookies and princess dresses, I'll see who I can call."

"Lijing," Tessa suggested.

"Is a psycho," Magnus said.

"Is a friend of mine," Tessa said.

"Is a psycho friend of yours similar to the other psycho friend who dragged you to Europe to play with portals and pyromaniacs. You need less psycho friends," Magnus told her.

"If I didn't have psycho friends, I wouldn't have you," Tessa said in a sweet voice. Magnus rolled his eyes and Jem knew the teasing smile Tessa gave him without needing to see it.

"It isn't safe for me to stay here," Will said interrupting the conversation and pulling everyone's attention back to someplace that Jem didn't really want it to be. Will pressed on, "I'd lead the pyromaniac as you call him directly to you."

"He'd find us anyway," Tessa said and she changed the way she was sitting just slightly. She shifted so that she leaned against Jem rather than sat beside him. It was invisible but he could feel it. He found her hand and hooked his little finger with hers. She didn't relax but she squeezed his finger in silent gratitude. Will was leaving and though he would only be going across town it was still leaving.

"He's right though and he needs to let Maryse ask him a thousand questions," Magnus said.

Tessa nodded and Jem could feel the unhappiness wash off of her. He wondered if the others could tell. These were the two other people in her entire life that knew her as well as he did. Did they know what the little moment of straightening her shoulders or the smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes mean?

Tessa very gently resisted the suggestion that Will needed to leave but she didn't actually argue against it. Jem couldn't come up with a consistent argument as to why he needed to stay so he didn't make one either. Will's mood was harder to decipher but he left with Magnus with a smile and a wave and a barely suppressed look in his eyes that was all conflict.

"He's real," Tessa said when they were alone.

"He's real," Jem confirmed.

"I don't know what to do about that," she said.

"Me neither," Jem said.

There was a long silence as she cuddled into him so that her head rested on his chest and his heartbeat knocked gently beneath her ear. He pulled the knit blanket a little closer around her. They had been two people with a shared missing piece for decades and now suddenly the missing piece was there. He just wasn't quite the right shape to fit in where he should have.

**AN: Someday I will write a proper Malec fic about that child. I had buckets of fun writing willful warlock baby. There was a minidebate on Tumblr about her name because you'd think Magnus would choose something dramatic. That said, we settled on Anna because it's an old Lightwood family name and for someone like Magnus who chose his name to impress and intimidate to give a child a simple and direct name is a sort of declaration: "I will keep you safe, you never have to be anyone or anything but who you are," I imagine him to be an exceptionally protective parent - not sheltering but defensive - you don't mess with his child or he will take you apart. **


	11. Reminders

**AN: This is entirely a Herongraystairs fic. 110% Herongraystairs. Lots of Jessa, lots of Wessa but totally headed in poly directions. Which also means there is a lot of Heronstairs stuff. Not "maybe if you read it the right way" Heronstairs, no this is proper Heronstairs. I mention this because if that isn't a thing you like, you might want to back out now before we get to the real kissing scenes. If this is a thing you like, send me fic recs because I need more in my life. :)**

Will had only been staying at the Institute for two days and he missed Tessa and Jem's little flat far more than he was willing to admit. The New York Institute wasn't nearly as settled as the London Institute he had left. It was a place that didn't serve breakfast or dinner but simply left the kitchen door open so you could grab what you wanted. There were few Shadowhunters permanently posted there and a large number who cycled through using portals to appear and disappear almost on a whim.

The Arrivals didn't make things better. They were a scattered group and the Shadowhunters were keeping them all busy doing different things. Will had seen Alison but not Edith or the others since he'd come in by portal with Magnus. As Shadowhunters, Will had expected that he and Alison would be treated with more respect than the others but that didn't seem to be the case.

Everyone was treated equally.

They were all treated as though they were idiots and inconveniences.

He had learned the names of the group of roving Nephilim who all knew Jem but hadn't really made any attempts at making friends. He wasn't sure he remembered how to make friends with strangers. He had been relearning how to be a friend to the people he already cared for when he'd stepped through the portal.

There were little flurries of curious conversation and then everyone would be called out to deal with other things and Will was left behind the Institute walls and warding with the other arrivals. There were little magical tests done in back alleys not too far from the building but beyond that he wasn't allowed anywhere else.

Two days was enough of that. Three hours was enough of that. He had started wandering London at 13. Now he had nothing to wander but hallways. It might not have been so bad if it were his own Institute but it was not.

This was an Institute filled with people who were distantly related to people he knew. When Magnus had introduced him as "William Herondale" he had received all manner of curious glances. The Herondales were a family name that he'd expected to die with him but it hadn't. The blonde Shadowhunter Jem had introduced only as Jace was a Herondale though there was some joking about his name that Will was too shocked to pay much attention to.

Magnus's Alec gave him a curious look that in other situations might have made Will badger him to explain but at that moment he was being introduced to Fairchilds and Lightwoods and kept expecting mad old Starkweather's great grandchildren to start popping out of the walls.

Alec and Jace had been making an effort to come and see him and their friend Simon, the only one of the little troupe of them with a last name that Will didn't know, had brought him things to read. Tessa had already brought him a bag of books with little notes tucked into the front covers about when it was written and whether or not she thought he would like it.

He'd been sitting in the dining room at the time listening without fully comprehending the sheer number of changes that had occurred in the Clave over the most recent decade. Jace and Alec editorialized and when Clary arrived all red hair and sitting on tables it became impossible to sort out the details though there was enough information for Will to understand the scope of the change.

The Clave had always seemed immovable to Will. He'd never fully shaken his mother's belief that they could never be reformed. He could see the good in Shadowhunters but he had always assumed that the Clave would always be one wrong move away from torturing people who did not deserve it. Now they had Downworld councils and all sorts of new rules and accords being drafted.

Tessa had appeared in that crowd around the same time Clary started telling a story about Maia. She sat down beside him with the bag on her lap and the shy smile he was starting to expect from her. Since she'd recovered herself, she'd been warm and kind but shy and just a bit distant. She brought him books but rather than sit with him and tell him about them she left notes. He tried to convince himself that this was better and that he didn't want her any closer.

It was easier.

He told himself that over and over.

Easier was better.

They were going through the pile of books and Tessa's hair kept falling over her face and Will kept having to curl his fingers around the page in hand to resist touching it. Simon managed to accidentally sneak up on them both and when he leaned over the table to pull one of Tessa's recommendations towards himself, Will jumped.

"This is literally a hundred years old," Simon said flipping it in his hands to read the title as Will composed himself enough to remember that there were people in the room beyond Tessa and himself. Most of them were involved in a debate about where to order dinner.

"98 actually and that is a first edition so you had better not have doritos dust on your fingers," Tessa said.

"I bought you a present," Simon said looking slightly offended at the suggestion that he might have doritos dust on his finger tips. He didn't really look like a Shadowhunter to Will. He didn't carry himself properly. Shadowhunters were gentry and this boy was not. He was not a gentleman and he seemed proud of it, all big, floppy gestures and sarcastic comments and dirty fingers, "I heard you had gotten hurt in Italy so I thought I'd do something nice since I'm such a good friend. Do you bring injured warlocks gifts, is that appropriate?"

"It depends on what it is," Tessa said smiling. Will reappraised Simon not as Jace's friend but as Tessa's. He wasn't a gentleman but he was bright and enthusiastic and Will could see why Tessa might befriend someone like him. Simon pulled a white paper bag out of his bag where it was slung across his shoulder.

"Are there men in tights? If there are men in tights, I won't like it," she told him.

"This is not classic superhero stuff. It's called Runaways," Simon passed a thin but oversized book over to Tessa and she took it with a skeptical look as he launched into an explanation of the story and the author and why it wasn't like the stuff that Tessa apparently hated.

Will picked the book out of her hand as she talked to Simon. Simon was an ascendant, rare enough on its own, and parabatai to the red headed Clary who was currently sitting on the table with her feet up on Jace's knee. He sometimes wore glasses he didn't need and always wore a t-shirt with a joke printed on it that Will did not understand. He was also one of the least pretentious people Will had ever met and that alone made him likable.

"It's an art book," Will said paging through it, "Are they painted?"

"It's called a graphic novel," Simon said and something about the light in his eyes told Will that this had the potential to be the start of a very passionate explanation.

"Comic book," Tessa interrupted before he could start. "They're picture stories for children."

"Not for children!" Simon snapped. "Read it before you pass judgment. You liked Sandman."

"Yes, Sandman is an exception to your entire ridiculous genre of caped heroes and silly villains," Tessa said and then her whole demeanor changed. All the years and all the things that stood between them were suddenly gone with Tessa's shyness as she turn to Will and gestured with her hands, "You should read Sandman, the bit where he's adapted the Tempest is just brilliantly done. The images and the dialogue and the way the story fits together. But don't listen to him about Spiderman. Spiderman is as stupid as it sounds."

"It isn't," Simon said, "The themes-"

"Are overshadowed by the idiocy of a man getting bitten by a spider and developing spider powers and wearing a costume to fight a man dressed as an octopus," Tessa said.

"It does sound silly," Will said, "Though I did once hear of that happening to a man in Kent though it was a spider demon, not a normal spider. I think he started eating flies and making webs in corners. All very strange."

"HA!" Simon said, "All the stories are true. Even Spiderman."

"Shut up," Tessa said. She swatted Will in the arm, "Don't encourage him."

The same afternoon, a few hours after Tessa had left, Simon had dropped off a second collection of books, all of them thin and colourful to add to Tessa's pile. Will had started with hers though he'd leafed through Simon's as well. He hadn't had as much time for it as he might have liked.

He had lessons.

The lessons were in the "interest of normalcy" he had been told. The tutor was a young woman who was about twenty five and was giving lessons to both Will and Alison. The Downworlders hadn't been invited. The lessons were not about the history of the world that they had missed. They were about the same bland and mind numbing bits of physiology and demon lore that Will had been taught in lessons at home.

"Either she is very stupid or the courses of study have been greatly reduced in recent years," Will muttered to Alison about an hour into the first one of these lessons. He had been given a pencil and a piece of paper and he was trying his best not to behave as a child and throw the pencil at the tutor's head as she explained the differences between animal demons and the higher demons.

Alison walked out a few minutes later, "I'm 21, I should not longer be expected to attend lessons."

Will felt sorry for the poor woman and her carefully planned lesson. She had a little page of notes she kept referring to. She was four years late for the lesson to be in the least bit helpful but she'd put in so much effort. The look on her face when Alison had left was enough to keep Will from following. He wasn't sure 30 minutes later that he was truly as committed to kindness as he thought he was.

His salvation came from the same person that his salvation had always come from.

Jem appeared in the doorway and frowned at the tutor just a little bit. She was facing the wrong way to see it but Will cracked a smile and she turned to see Jem and suddenly got very tense. Jem's slightly arched eyebrow was all the evidence he gave that he had noticed. It wasn't intended for her and Will wasn't surprised that she didn't mention it. They could still have conversations without speaking and it made Will smile.

"Hello Br.. Hello Zachariah," she said.

"Good afternoon Lauren," he said and his small smile wasn't Jem's it belonged to the stranger he must have been as a Silent Brother, "How are you? Your memory is excellent, that passage was almost word for word."

Will hadn't any idea what the passage was or even what topic they were discussing at this point. Her lesson was so carefully planned it didn't really require any input from students.

Jem crossed the room, his eyes scanning the bookcase quickly before pulling down a volume and leafing through it. It was a heavy leather bound book with a 3 and a seal printed on the spine, a part of a series published by the Clave. Will's lessons had been filled with books like this. He got up and followed Jem to where he laid it out on the teacher's desk.

"See, you got it just right," he said. It was a passage on greater demons. Will looked up at Jem, searching for the explanation for this little show. It was obviously meant to show someone something and Will wasn't sure yet if he was the one meant to be learning.

"This is a very popular series of histories," Jem said. "Seven volumes I think. Multiple editions though I prefer the originals. I knew the author so perhaps I have a bias but the midcentury edited versions were rewritten so heavily that they are very nearly propaganda."

He flipped through the book so that the author's name was visible printed on the front page. Will frowned deeply at it. The tutor looked up at him with a little frown of her own. This was a second edition with an updated foreword by the author, William O. Herondale. It had been published in 1931.

"I need to borrow Will for a little while, please excuse us," Jem said and then pulled him out of the room. The tutor stared blankly at the backs of their heads looking startled and uncomfortable. Will only looked back once before he turned his attention to Jem. He hadn't seen him enough in the past two days.

"I wouldn't have thought I'd ever have the patience to write books," Will said trying to cover up how hard it was to imagine being an old man writing books that would still be read a hundred years later. He would have been old enough to have grandchildren in 1931. Once they were clear of the room his discomfort flashed into anger.

"What was the point of that?" he snapped at Jem. He spun on his heel in the empty corridor and only just stopped himself from shoving Jem with all his strength. Jem rocked back from the impact. His face was impassive and Will's anger flashed a little brighter but Jem didn't give him a chance to start a rant.

"They are treating you like a lost child," Jem said in the same calm voice he'd always used when Will had gotten angry with him. "They send you to classes, they refuse to allow you out of doors, I had to lie to Maryse to be given permission to come and see you. Someone needed reminding who you are."

"An old man who wrote a stodgy old book," Will said.

"An expert in your field. You took over the Institute at 18," Jem said, "They promoted Charlotte and she appointed you. That lesson we took with Fredrich where you drew rude pictures in the book for forty minutes and then made up limericks to accompany them for the next thirty was the last formal Clave required lesson you ever took. You may like to pretend that you aren't worth much William but you are one of the best. I say that having seen generations of Shadowhunters go from naming ceremonies through final rites. Do not sell yourself short and don't allow others to either."

"They promoted Charlotte?" Will said.

"Yes," Jem said allowing Will to pretend that the rest of his statement hadn't existed. Jem had been leading the way through the Institute, obviously knowing where he was going. When Will didn't question him again, he turned and continued. Will fell into step and nudged Jem with a shoulder. He hoped that some of his gratitude came through in that little moment of touch. The words were too big to say. Imagining himself as an old man was upsetting. Imagining himself as someone others respected enough to buy books from was less upsetting.

The corridors of the Institute were narrow in this part and when they reached the stairs, Jem took them two at a time and stopped at the door at the top. Unwinded. Healthy. Smiling. Will stood on the stairs below him and waited.

"Are you planning on seducing me in some dark corner?" Will asked. "I feel you could do better on ambiance if that were the case."

It was Jem's turn to ignore him, "I want to train."

"That's not a problem but I'm hardly dressed for it," Will said.

"Me neither, I don't really care," Jem said. "You are on house arrest. You are not meant to see anyone to preserve the sanctity of the past or some such garbage. Let's not advertise."

The training room looked as Will expected a training room to look and that was enough of a relief that he gave up his plans to argue. The layout was different, the ceiling was higher, some of the weapons were of a different style than he had seen before but it looked more familiar than anything else he had seen since that first glimpse of Tessa. Will ran his fingers along weapons and it all smelled of metal and leather and old wood. He closed his eyes and when Jem came to stand beside him he could almost imagine he was home.

They ran drills that to Will were so familiar that he could have done them in his sleep and had on mornings when he hadn't gotten to bed before dawn.

They were drills that Jem kept making mistakes on. Little errors in footwork or spacing.

With any other drills it wouldn't have seemed like much but these were things they'd been doing for years. Jem wasn't late on the second piece of footwork. He didn't miss a swing and bump Will's elbow. Jem didn't make mistakes like that. And yet, he did, over and over.

Neither of them said anything. They ran the drills until he didn't make the mistakes any more, until they could move in time again.

Will kept waiting for him to start failing, for him to start rolling his shoulders as the weakness set in or breathing hard as his lungs protested. When he finally stopped, it wasn't because of weakness. He dropped to the ground for a drink of water from a bottle he pulled out of a little case set against the wall. He tossed a second one at Will and it was cold.

"Some things about your future are good," Will said as he sunk down beside him. Jem leaned back against the wall with sweat on his forehead and a smile on his lips. They'd been working hard but Jem wasn't suffering for it.

"They're trying to send me back," Will said staring off into space.

"I know," Jem said. "Tessa and Magnus are both involved in all the planning to figure out the spells. The Clave is monitoring Venice in case more people arrive but there's been nothing."

"I'm going to live to be an old man," Will said.

"Yes," Jem said, "It'll be a good life Will. It's a life you deserve to have."

"It's a life without you," Will said. "You're young now. To be this young now you couldn't have been more than twenty when you joined the brothers, when you left."

"Not even that old," Jem said.

"Did you make it to your wedding day?" Will asked.

"Yes, it was 130 years late but yes, I made it there," Jem said.

Will closed his eyes and tried to find that calm that he had had when he'd been looking at the weapons and it had seemed like home. It wouldn't come. Jem had forgotten the drills because it had been more than a century since he'd done them. It had been more than a century since he'd trained with another person who could match his steps exactly.

Will had lived long enough that he had probably forgotten it too. It seemed impossible - like forgetting how to breathe - but maybe if you didn't breathe for long enough you could forget that too.

"It's not fair," Will said.

"Life isn't," Jem said and he sounded older. Will could hear the Silent Brother in his voice. He could imagine Jem's voice stretched paper thin and whispering through his mind and it made him want to hit things. "But if it were fair we'd never get our miracles because those aren't fair either."

"You deserved more than that," Will said. "You lost more than most people will ever have."

"I never saw it like that. I made a decision. I could have died. I should have died but if I had died I could not have been there for you or for her or for any of the people who have needed me to be there in the years since. There are worse things than dying. Have I told you that yet? It's true. There are worse things than dying but to die and leave those you love in danger… It wasn't something I was prepared to do. Not if I had another option," Jem said. His eyes had stayed shut as he'd spoken and his voice came from far away in memories deep in the past.

"Tessa waited for you," Will said.

"Tessa came back to me and I count that as one of my miracles," Jem said. "And you've come back to me and that is more miracle than I had even thought to imagine."

"And if they send me back tomorrow?" Will asked.

"Then I will be glad that I lied my way in past Maryse to see you. You deserve to go home. I would not wish you out of your own life just so I could have you in mine," Jem said.

"I would," Will said in a soft voice. "I would have traded anything I had in this world to give you this life. I just wish that I hadn't had to lose the chance to be a part of it. We are one person James, we weren't meant to be divided."

"We were never one person," Jem said turned to look at him and Will was surprised again to find dark eyes and golden skin instead of pale silver. "But we were also never really divided. The Brotherhood built walls between me and the world but some lines cannot be severed. You and I are tied together William. You kept me human in the dark and as the wheel turns, we turn together. When you go back, go back knowing that no matter what else changes, you and I will find each other again. Our families, our selves, our souls, they are never alone. You and I and Tess. I don't know if you can see it yet but Tess as well. We will always find each other again."

Will's words failed him but he held Jem's eyes and remembered the boy who had had eyes like that before demon drugs had started draining the life out of him. It was a promise, an oath that had already come true. They had found each other again.

Will nodded and Jem pulled him in to kiss his forehead. It was quick and soft. Lips on skin. Will was too surprised to react.

"Stand up," Jem said when he pulled back, "I might be terrible at the double katas but I can hand you your ass in a sparing match."

"Bullshit," Will said.

Twenty minutes later Will had been knocked down enough times that he had almost forgotten the promise that they would find each other again and Jem's lips had felt against his skin. Almost.


	12. Storms

Tessa sat with her hands wrapped around her phone and a worried frown on her face. Her grip tightened and her knuckles whitened. She had dialed every number she had and had called around to find the ones that she didn't have saved. Everything had failed.

"Where did she go?" Tessa asked and Jem didn't have an answer for her. She had been swinging between worrying about Will and trying to find Natasha for the past few days but the panic about Nat had crested this morning. Nat hadn't come with them when they'd crossed through the portal. Jem couldn't remember seeing her at the battle outside the church and Will hadn't seen her since he'd pushed her out of the gap Tessa had made in the barrier spell.

"She doesn't disappear," Tessa said to him. He sat close to her without touching. She was too keyed up for any offers of comfort he might make to be accepted. Without really intending to he had positioned himself so his body created a wall between her and the world beyond them. He watched her and waited for her to ask him for something he could give her.

"Maybe she did this time, it isn't that impossible to imagine. If she was deeper in this than you thought maybe she went to ground to avoid the Clave. Stranger things have happened," Jem said.

"She doesn't have the discipline for going to ground. Neither does she have the self-preservation instinct. She managed to get into trouble with the mundane mafia in the 1980s and I had to drag her out of Europe because she just kept making it worse. She sent the guy who tried to kill her flowers," Tessa told him shaking her head.

In another context it might have been a funny story but Tessa didn't laugh as she told it. She leaned back against the cushions and stared at the ceiling as she tapped the phone against her knee. Thoughts rushed across her face without being given voice. Jem knew her well enough to understand the type of things she was thinking even if he didn't know what the content of those thoughts was.

"If she's gone to ground, someone else took her there," Tessa finally said.

"Where are the other warlocks? Did she go with them?" Jem asked.

Tessa rattled off a list of names and locations. The four who had come back to the Institute as well as six others she had found in her efforts to find Natasha. He hadn't realized that she had been putting that much time into it. Aside from Natasha and the mysterious Dmitri, Tessa had found all but two of the warlocks who had been in the church. Jem didn't ask if she had passed that information on to Maryse. He suspected that she hadn't. Magnus maybe, but not the Clave and Tessa would always see Maryse as the Clave.

Tessa sat up and looked Jem in the eye. Her nervous energy drained out of her. Her emotions were like thunder clouds building slow then clearing to blue like summer storms. Flashes of anger or anxiety rattled through her and then blew away to leave her calm and collected again. Jem often felt like he had to recover from his own emotions whereas Tessa just let her feelings go. He never knew when the storm would break or what would cause it but it always happened.

"I can't remember anymore what I did without you for so very many years," she said to him. He startled at the change in topic and was momentarily speechless. She smiled and kissed him carefully, "You're supposed to be meeting Will and I need to go talk to someone down in the Bronx with connections in Milan. Bring me home something for dinner."

He nodded and they were held still for a moment. Her eyes were bluer than usual. Then she leaned in and kissed him again before leaving him alone in the apartment to wonder at the strangeness of the woman he'd fallen in love with and where she was going.

* * *

><p>If Tessa's emotions were summer storms that built slowly and blew themselves out fast, Will's were a hurricane. Will's emotions fed on themselves and spun and spun and spun until he'd gone from worried to a surly wreck. He hid it well but Jem could see it even better now than he'd been able to when they'd been young.<p>

After making the mistake of cooping himself up with Will's hurricane of anger and disorientation in the training room for over an hour, Jem pulled him outside. They found a balcony that looked over the courtyard and the city beyond. Will sat on the railing and glared at New York. Jem leaned on the pitted wrought iron beside him and ignored the waves of misery beneath the confrontational body language.

Jem didn't talk. With Tess he had been silent because he didn't know how to fix her problem but with Will he was silent because he knew that Will would break the silence when he was ready and wouldn't talk until he was. Will tugged at the sleeves of his gear because it was borrowed and the fit was different than he was used to. Usually it wouldn't have bothered him but today he seemed intent on being bothered by everything.

Jem had found him to be more like his cursed self than he had been in his entire life after it had been broken. Defensive and short with everyone. He wasn't nasty as he had been once but he was unpleasant. Jem knew how to weather that Will better than anyone else and he was surprised to find it almost endearing, aggravating but endearing. Not unlike like a puppy. Will was a puppy growling and pretending to be much meaner than he truly was.

"What happens if I don't go home?" Will asked. "What happens if I do go home and know things about the future that I shouldn't know. What happens to Now if I change things Then?"

"I don't know," Jem said.

"Shouldn't I be rewriting history? I'm gone from Then," he said then as though it were a place name, "I must be able to go back or Jace shouldn't exist. He's related to me. At some point that means I must have progeny, there aren't any other Herondales. I'm the last one. Unless the name got picked up by an ascendant sometime after I died."

"You and Jace are related," Jem said keeping his voice level and not looking over at Will. He didn't have answers to questions about how history fit together and whether or not time travel could destroy the way the pieces fit.

Jem's phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket to read the message that said Tessa was going to be a little later than she'd expected. Will dropped off the rail and came to lean over his shoulder and look at the screen. He never touched the little device but he watched Jem each time he used it.

Jem had started it but Will kept up the casual and frequent little touches when they were alone. Jem thought Will might be doing it as an attempt to acclimate to what he assumed to be a modern custom. Sometimes he just seemed to be seeking contact with another person as though to assuage his own loneliness.

Whichever it was, Jem never turned away the shoulder against his or the arm dropped around his neck while they talked. Will leaned against the rail beside him as much as he leaned against him. Will watched him type out the response on the tiny little screen. When Will smirked at his inability to not hit too many letters at once - something he was sure he would never master - Jem pushed his hip out to the side and knocked Will off balance.

Rather than growling or retaliating, Will simply laughed and resettled himself into place against Jem's side. Jem had found the eye of the hurricane that was Will's mood, not a true break in his temper but still a respite.

"Aren't musicians supposed to have graceful fingers? There is no F in that word," Will said and Jem silently handed him the phone and gave him a wave to say 'go ahead and try.' Will promptly hit the wrong part of the perfectly smooth screen and brought up another screen that he frowned at.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"Opened the phone book," Jem said.

"How do I close the phone book? Why is it called a book and not a list?" Will said.

"Because before we had tiny phones they had big ones that didn't store the numbers so they were printed in a book," Jem said and he reached over and put the screen back to the half finished message to Tessa, "Here."

"And who invented this distribution of letters? Wouldn't it be easier to find them if it were alphabetical?" Will held the phone in one hand and used his index finger on the other to tap each letter as he found it. He didn't miss as often as Jem did but he was comically slow.

"Keyboards are always laid out like that," Jem said with a shrug. "Mundanes invent these things not me. It makes sense to someone somewhere. What did you just send her?"

Will flashed him a grin and Jem lunged for the phone. He had been paying more attention to Will's hunt for the letters than what he had been writing. Will spun out of the way and a brief struggle of keep away ensued before Jem finally wrenched the phone back.

"What does that even mean?" he said pulling up the message which started with his message about picking up takeaway sushi and ended with a fragment of what he assumed was poetry but didn't mean anything to him. When they spoke in books, they spoke a language he didn't understand even if he read all the same novels, he still wouldn't be a part of it.

"She'll understand it. How long until she reads it?" Will asked. Jem had pushed him over and he was sitting on the ground and looking up as he spoke. Both childlike and not. Jem dropped himself to the ground beside him and they leaned against the curling iron design of the balcony behind them and each other.

"She'll receive it almost immediately. She'll read it when she reads it. Sometimes it's immediate, other times she won't open the phone for days and will never read it," Jem said closing the messages. On the backdrop of the phone was a picture of Tessa making a face. Her nose was scrunched up and the very edge of smile was pulling on her lips. He loved the picture and the memory that went with it. It was impossible to tell by looking at it that she hadn't been dressed when it had been taken but something about knowing that always made it feel like the picture was a secret.

"I love photographs," Will said still looking at the screen. His voice was far softer than Jem was expecting. He wasn't really talking about photographs and they both knew it. Before Will could retreat from the topic into the polite avoidance he often used when Tessa came up in a conversation, Jem leaned in a little closer. He held the phone where Will could see it and started paging through photos.

He could barely type on the machine and most of the more advanced functions were just about as comprehensible to him as arcane warlock magic but he knew how to use the camera. The indulgent store clerk had helped him find on that used buttons for photography instead of touch functions. He had hundreds of photos many of them of the exact same subject though the scenery changed.

Will didn't ask questions but Jem could see the expressions on his face change as the images scrolled by. Will's guard was down and the little changes were quick and as easy to read as a book. Jem couldn't remember ever having seen Will like that in more than brief flashes. Even Will after the curse had broken had never been as at ease with Brother Zachariah as he was now.

The entire series of photos where Tessa made faces at Anna and Anna tried to match them actually made Will laugh out loud. He blinked in surprise at a picture of Tessa in a bathing suit and an over-sized hat on a beach in the Bahamas. Another one from the same day where she stood soaking wet and captured in mid sentence after being dumped in the water actually made Will colour.

One of Jem's favourite photos was of Tessa with a cup of coffee curled in her hands while she looked away from the camera at something that had distracted her. She had a half smile on her face and was just starting to say something. Her hair fell in a wave around her and sunlight picked out gold highlights in the dark strands. The light had been just right and it perfectly captured the way he always imagined her to be when she wasn't there. Beautiful, more fully awake than most people, engaged with the world and deep in her own thoughts all at once.

"It's a beautiful piece of jewelry, did you buy it for her when you got married?" Will asked.

Jem looked back at the picture trying to pick out the jewelry Will had mentioned. He almost asked what he was talking about because the only piece of jewelry that was visible in the photo was her bracelet. The gold and the pearls and the shape of the marriage rune were all picked out in the same light that made her hair shine.

"It's nice that she can wear the runes. That's all I meant," Will said as he walls went back up. He thought he had given some sort of offense when Jem didn't answer. Jem couldn't think of how to respond. He would not take credit for the bracelet. It was too much a piece of them for him to say

"Sometimes I forget how little you know," Jem said. They were both still looking at Tessa's half smile in the photo.

"I'd know more if you told me," Will said.

"What do you want to know?" Jem asked.

"Nothing," Will said looking sad and then defiant. Jem could almost feel the change in the air as they passed back into the storm of Will's emotions.

"I will answer any question you ask, I swear that to you but unless you ask, I won't tell you anything. Not about her, not about me, not about you or your family or Clave history," Jem said.

"Should I say thank you?" Will asked.

"Either that or tell me to start at the beginning and I'll tell you everything I remember about the last 140 years from that time Benedict Lightwood turned into a giant worm up until the morning that Tessa's phone rang and we left for Venice," Jem said.

"Benedict Lightwood turned into a worm," Will mused.

"You have made the Lightworm joke more times than any of us can stomach any more. Please don't do it again," Jem laughed. Will joined him and then settled in against him again as he tried to think up better puns. He spoke with his hands as he got more animated and Jem was pulled into it against his will. The game went on to include other Shadowhunter names that could be reassembled and which family member was most likely to be offended by them. Will didn't even seem to care that Jem picked a mid century Whitelaw as the most likely to faint in horror at being called Whiteballs.

"Heronfail?" Jem suggested and then shook his head, "No, I can do better than that."

"Stop trying right there, my family name is venerable and not to be trifled with. You can shut it," Will said.

"Look who's learning modern phrases, you're so cute," Jem said and Will shot back a play on his name that was made up entirely of swearwords before they collapsed into laughter again.

"Thank you for tolerating me. Today, yesterday, tomorrow, our entire childhoods. You have saved my life a hundred times. Even when you don't know what you are doing," Will said and then he reached over and hooked a hand around Jem's neck to pull him in and kiss his forehead.

When Jem had kissed Will on the forehead before he'd done it without thinking. If he was being honest with himself, he did it because it was what he would have done for Tessa if she'd been upset like that. He kept having difficulty separating how he loved Tessa from what were acceptable ways to demonstrate the way he loved Will. They were friends not lovers and what was acceptable in one arena was not in another.

That thought crossed his mind and stopped him from the utterly unacceptable thing he had been about to do. It would not have been acceptable to raise his face and meet the pressure of Will's lips with a real kiss. It simply could not be done. Jem was momentarily caught in Will's gaze and then Will kissed his forehead again and then grinned and pulled a still unbalanced Jem to his feet.

"You're meant to be buying a pretty girl dinner and I am meant to be attending a lesson with a teacher who is so deeply intimidated by me that she very nearly refuses to speak. Your little history book lesson made a bit of an impression. I don't know whether to thank you or curse you," Will said.

Jem's feeling of disorientation didn't entirely go away as he said his good byes and left the Institute. He purchased too much Chinese takeaway and made his way home. The city was quiet as he drove back and tried to think of all the reasons that Chinese takeaway should really be called something else as it had very little resemblance to food that people in China ate beyond a few matching ingredients.

* * *

><p>"Do you ever have mad thoughts?" Jem asked Tessa as they passed containers back and forth without dishing anything onto plates. The other thought kept climbing back to the surface. How close had he actually been to crossing that line? How angry would Will have been after he'd gotten over the shock of it?<p>

"Like what?" she asked. She rarely gestured with a fork in her hand, her Victorian breeding wouldn't allow using cutlery for expressing thoughts but chopsticks didn't fall under that rule. She would wave them about and point at things with them. She had them raised in an inquisitive gesture.

She had been telling him about her visit with a faerie who had friends in Milan. The visit hadn't been fruitless but it hadn't given her the information she was looking for. One of the still unaccounted for warlocks was in Milan but it wasn't Natasha. Certain fashion houses very discretely employed magic users to make sure that their runway shows caught all the attention they were supposed to catch.

"I can't quite sort it out," he admitted. "I had this thought earlier today. It crossed my mind like a temporary madness but it won't leave now."

"So not temporary," she said. "Will you share this not-so-temporary madness?"

"I thought about doing a thing that is unacceptable," he said.

"He said vaguely," Tessa retorted and looked up in the midst of pointing a spring roll at him to actually see his expression. Whatever smart ass comment had been about to come out of her mouth was replaced with a look of concern as she said, "Who decides what is acceptable? There is always someone to tell you not to do something. How many people have said that your decision to leave behind the Silent Brothers was an unacceptable dereliction of your vows? How many others have called my very existence an unacceptable travesty?"

Jem frowned at her but it didn't slow her down, "If it upsets you, don't do it. If it upsets you because someone else says it is unacceptable, well, you're 152, you can figure out what is right and what is wrong all by yourself."

Jem pulled her in, gesturing spring roll and all, to kiss her forehead. He wanted to tell her why it made him smile, why it meant something different now than it would have before but he couldn't assemble the words the way he wanted to. He kissed her again and then dropped back into his chair and reached out for the fried rice. Tessa waved a finger at it and it slid across the table on its own so he could grab it.

She was calm and collected and all smiles. The storm of anxiety would come back eventually, the longer they couldn't find Natasha, the longer they couldn't understand what had happened with the portal, the worse it would get. Now though, he had a summer evening, calm and safe with just the hint of rain in the air.

Author Notes:

Extended metaphors are fun! Or pretentious. I don't really know!

Jem telling her he was bringing sushi and then forgetting and getting Chinese was originally a continuity error but I left it in because I think it works with him thinking about everything else and now what he is actually doing.


	13. Worse

**AN: Hello chapter full of Wessa and Will Angst (which is entirely a thing to be capitalized). **

A week into his house arrest Will was starting to lose his mind. He wanted out of the Institute. He'd taken to snapping at people when they came to talk to him and they'd started giving him a wider berth. The possibility of forming friendships faded each time he scowled in response to an idiom he didn't understand or a hastily retracted invitation he couldn't accept.

"The smart ass temper is a family trait," Alec said to him, "Here I thought it was unique to you, Jace."

"It is unique to me, I am much wittier," Jace retorted.

They'd been standing in the training room because training for hours was one of the few things that could exhaust Will enough that he could sleep through his nerves. Was time moving forward at home? Had they noticed he was gone? Could his absence change the future? Was he going to be able to go home? Was he going to be able to face Jem when he got there? How did you look your dying best friend in the eye and tell them that you knew what would happen to them?

"Modesty is another family trait," Will said with a little less growl in his voice. He liked Jace. He found him slightly insufferable but he still liked him. Alec was more of a curiosity because of his relationship with Magnus. Will didn't quite know what to make of someone who seemed reserved and normal and yet managed to make a person like Magnus into someone's father. Will waved a hand in the air, "As is gambling and drinking too much. We're an interesting family."

"Gambling?" Jace said. "Are you a gambler?"

"No, but my father managed to gamble away the family home in Wales. I don't know about the ones after me, you'd have to ask Tess. She seems to know," Will said.

He had not asked. Jem had told him that anything he asked they would answer and he was terrified to know so he hadn't asked a single question about his family.

"I didn't even know that she knew the Herondales before you showed up," Jace said. "I guess I could have figured it out. I knew that Zach had had a Herondale for a parabatai and I knew that she had known him since they were young. She doesn't talk about herself much."

"Magnus knows your family too. He's told me a little bit about you and about your son," Alec said, "Magnus knew him too. Magnus doesn't talk a lot about himself either, I think it is a warlock thing but I know some of the stories. He respects you. He doesn't talk about many of the old-time Shadowhunters with respect but you're an exception. You and Henry Branwell."

"Most people don't respect Henry," Will said hoping that it was a clear enough signal to stop the conversation so he wouldn't have to find out what Alec knew about his son. The son he had with some woman he probably hadn't met yet and he was quite certain he couldn't love as much as he wanted to love the person he married.

He wanted love like his parents had.

No, it was much more specific than that. He wanted Tessa to turn that smile she only ever gave Jem on him and love him as much as he loved her. But it hadn't been Tessa. Tessa had spent her life waiting for Jem. Tessa was a warlock and couldn't have children. The son in the story Magnus had told couldn't possibly be theirs. It as an impossible fantasy either way.

"If someone could tell me my future, I think I'd want to know," Jace said.

"Hell, I wouldn't," Alec said.

"I think I would. My future will be thrilling and exciting and full of fantastic deeds," Jace said.

"Whereas my future features a marriage of convenience and never getting to truly see my best friend again," Will said but he said it in Welsh. It turned out to be an excellent distraction that led to Will teaching the others how to swear in Welsh while they threw knives and Will attempted to avoid any conversations about himself.

* * *

><p>The day after the impromptu language lesson, Will was wandering the corridors with a book Tessa had given him in hand. He walked and he read. There were many closed doors and he itched to open them all but he was trying his best not to pry so he read while he walked so he wouldn't be quite so tempted.<p>

The book she'd given him was the most ridiculous thing he had ever read and yet he hadn't been able to put it down. It made absolutely no sense. It was titled Slaughterhouse Five and even that didn't particularly make sense. Reading a history of the city of Dresden and the Second World War that he'd lifted from the library didn't help it make sense. And yet he was on his third read through and he'd started writing things in the margins of the book and hoping that Tessa wouldn't kill him for defacing her volume.

He hadn't told anyone he'd taken the history book. Mundane history had been hard to find in the library but he'd managed to find the small selection of books. The arrivals, in one of the few instances they'd been allowed to be in the same room, were told that they were not going to be given any access to the modern world beyond what was unavoidable. It would make reintegrating when they returned home more seamless. Will had gone looking nearly as soon as the meeting was over.

He read and he walked and he tried to make sense of alien worlds and time travel and wars that were simultaneously far in the past and far in the future.

He heard the voices and stopped.

Voices were not unusual. It was an Institute after all and it was full of people but one of the voices was Tessa's. He was sure of that before he could hear the words. Her accent was different but her voice was the same. Her American accent had been softened by years in England and other places but she still sounded like herself.

"Why does it matter if I take him or not?" Tessa asked and she didn't sound happy. Will tucked his finger into his place in the book and leaned against the partially opened door to listen. It was eavesdropping but it was Tessa and she was talking to Maryse as though she thought the Shadowhunter was an idiot. Will had started to see Maryse as the reason he couldn't leave and though he knew, rationally, that it wasn't fair he couldn't shake it. The idea of Tessa telling her off in her Warlock Queen voice was too enticing to ignore.

"He is a Shadowhunter and will be important to our history. The Clave doesn't want them to bring too much information back to the past when we return them," Maryse said.

"I trust him and he can handle himself. He's smarter than most people and he won't cause a scene the first time a bus goes by him," Tessa said and Will checked that there was no one around to see him before he smiled at that.

"I know the Carstairs and the Herondales have a history but that doesn't give either you or your husband carte blanche to come in here and just sign him out like he's a library book. I will have to talk to Zachariah if he continues interrupting William's schedule here. We are trying to maintain normalcy," Maryse said and she said it as though she were reading from a text book. This was the company line, the thing the Clave had told her to say.

"The Carstairs and the Herondales do have a history," Tessa said and there was a greater force in her voice than had been there before. "Their history begins with those two. Jem hasn't been showing up here to upset your careful routines because he feels some responsibility to the Herondale family name. He's here because he and Will were parabatai. Those two are where that old connection between the families began. I'm trying to care that it might upset history but I just don't. Maybe history needs upsetting. You cannot ask Jem not to talk to Will. That's absurd. If it were Alec and Jace would you expect them to obey those rules?"

"That can be evaluated," Maryse said, "But you cannot take William out of this building. These rules don't come from me."

"I can track spells but only if the spell is actually there. We need to figure out exactly which spell keeps latching onto them when they step out of the warding and Magnus's little tests on the werewolves in your back alley aren't helping. I need someone I can take halfway across town. I need them far away from your warding and I need to be able to trust them to handle themselves in a strange environment," Tessa said. Her voice was strong and final when she said, "Will is the best choice."

"Fine, don't take the werewolf. Take Alison. She is from the 70s, it will be less of a shock for her," Maryse said.

"She also hates warlocks and will resist every bit of magic I attempt. She's been an ass to Magnus and Catarina all week. We will get no where and then I will throw her into the Hudson in a fit of annoyance," Tessa said.

"She can -" Maryse started but Tessa cut her off.

"Let me explain, I'm not so much asking permission as explaining my rationale," Tessa said.

"This is a Clave problem, not a warlock one," Maryse said.

"Then you can solve it yourself," Tessa said, "But wait, there are no Shadowhunters who can track spells, there are no Shadowhunters who can act as seers and see the magic as it is cast, there are no Shadowhunters who can follow Dmitri down into the Warlock markets. You need us."

There was a long silent moment. Will leaned against the wall and grinned to himself. Tessa Gray had first impressed him when she'd swung a jug at his head. She had never stopped impressing him. He didn't lean in to see her staring Maryse down but he pictured it and smiled a little wider.

"I'll bring him back before dark," Tessa said in response to something Will didn't see happen.

"Will you accept an armed escort?" Maryse asked.

"Yes," Tessa said, "I'd rather people I know."

"Simon and Isabel should be available," Maryse said.

"That's acceptable," Tessa said.

Will didn't have time to go anywhere so he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside the door. Tessa stalked out looking fierce and beautiful and all the carefully constructed things he was going to say to her fell apart. He hadn't been alone with her in so very long. He hadn't touched her since the day he'd come to this place with Magnus. He regretted that choice no matter how many times he reminded himself that it was safer this way, safer for them. He was too selfish not to regret it.

His very stupid arms uncrossed themselves and he had to stop himself before that turned into actually reaching for her. The anger and the harshness in Tessa's face had vanished. It was just gone when she saw him. She froze and he let his hands drop down. He'd forgotten he was holding the book and almost dropped it. Tessa turned and closed Maryse's office door.

"Are we going on a trip?" he asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Jem made it sound like you were about to start breaking down the walls if someone didn't get you out of here," she said after she had led him halfway down the hall where they couldn't be overheard. "Do you often skulk the halls and eavesdrop?"

"No, only on you. You're a unique case," Will said and then bit his tongue because that was not something he should have said to her. She laughed and he grinned at her as she leaned in against his shoulder in the same little bump that Jem did.

"Wait," Will said pausing and then hurrying to catch up to her, "Jem said that I want to leave? Is that why you are here? Did you lie to her?"

"There are genuine magical reasons to take you out of here and attempt to track the spell," Tessa said.

"But," he prompted falling into step beside her.

"I lied a little bit. I probably won't be able to learn anything useful at all," Tessa said. "But the Strand is one of the largest bookstores in the city and Jem wanted to go for sushi and you'll probably hate sushi but you should try it. I want to take you on the subway. I want to show you central park. I want a day Will. If they can do this, if they can send you back," she stopped dead in the hall. Will almost left her behind and when he turned back she was more serious than he expected.

She continued, "If they can do that then I want a day to just be together before you're gone. But if you think you are a threat to the future or the past or whatever it is the Clave theorists think you are, you are welcome to stay here."

"I will always choose to be where you are," Will said and bit his tongue again. She looked at him. Her eyes were misty mornings when everything smelled fresh and sharp and new. He tried to back track and make that statement more appropriate but he couldn't think straight enough with her eyes on him to form his thoughts into words.

She stepped in closer to him and her eyes were sad. He'd been bracing himself for anger. He'd been bracing himself for her to tell him that she wasn't his to be with. Instead, she very slowly wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. He collapsed around her so she was pulled in as tightly as he could manage. He stopped himself before he pressed his face into her neck because he didn't think he'd be able to resist kissing her if he was that close to her skin.

Neither of them broke away first. Tessa settled herself lower so her arms were looped around his waist and her head was on his chest at just the right height to rest his chin on her hair. No one spoke and in the silent empty hall the only sounds were their breathing and their heartbeats. Will could almost hear them echo off the stone.

The silence was interrupted by footsteps and Will started to pull away. Tessa grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into the nearest doorway. They found themselves in a disused office in great need of dusting. The furniture had been covered in white sheets but the empty bookshelves were heavy with dust. No one had been in here in a very long time.

Tessa was still too close and he wrapped his arm around her again. She was watching by the door but she let it fall closed when he touched her. She wasn't nearly so close this time and he could feel the warmth of her hands where she'd rested them on his chest. The clothing in this century was so thin and people wore so few layers. Will hadn't decided whether or not he liked it.

Tessa wore the tight trousers that were so popular and those he did like. They were nearly indecent and he felt a little guilty for watching her when she wore them but he did like them. Her shirt was just a single layer of cotton over her skin and his hands had found their way to her waist while he was busy thinking that he shouldn't.

She touched his face and he leaned towards her. It was gravity. It couldn't be argued with. The night on the balcony at the Lightwood party came back to him and he remembered tracing her features like this. This time it was her fingers against his skin. She had been drunk that night and she'd regretted it almost immediately. They weren't drunk this time. He searched her face as she trailed fingers over his jaw and his nose and the arch of his cheeks.

"Will?" she said in a voice that was too soft to possibly belong to the same person who had just argued down the Head of the Institute.

"Tess," he matched her tone as closely as he could.

"I don't want you to leave. You have to go back. Your life is there. Everything is there. It is unconscionable to want to hold onto you here. I thought avoiding you would make it easier but it hasn't," she said.

Will looked over her head at the dusty room. At the shapeless blobs of furniture and the little cluster of objects still sitting on one shelf. He tried to make out what they were while he assembled what he wanted to say.

"There are only three things that have ever made me happy," Will said as softly as he could. It was a secret that he wasn't sure he could tell it to her but the words were already coming and he couldn't stop them, "My family, Jem and you."

Her fingers went from flat on his chest to twisted in his shirt and he didn't stop talking, "And I will be going back to a life where I will have nothing."

"That's not true," Tessa said.

"Isn't it?" Will said. "The Clave will never allow me to contact my parents. Jem will become a Silent Brother and as much as I would rather he be that than dead, he will still be gone. He will go to the Silent City and I will never have another day with him. I could not leave the Clave. I could not follow Cecily back to Wales or York because then I would truly never see him again. And you. I will spend my entire life loving you and you will spend your entire life loving him."

"Will," she started.

"It's not something to apologize for Tessa. I am glad that you love him. I am glad that he loves you and I don't have strong enough words to tell you how glad I am that you found each other after so much time. I am sorry to be the one to throw your offers of friendship back in your face. I don't mean to. I swear I didn't mean for it to be like that," he said.

"Will," she said with a little more force and he stopped talking and looked at her. Her eyes shimmered with tears threatening to fall and she was closer than she had been a moment ago. He had made her cry again. He needed to stop speaking.

"William," she said and she paused as though unsure what to say next. He didn't speak. He would just say something worse if he spoke now. He closed his eyes.

"I love you," she said. His body reacted to the words before his mind caught up to them. His fingers tightened on her waist and he pulled her just a little bit closer.

"I loved you when I sent you away that day in the drawing room. It was so long ago Will. So long ago but I remember it. I remember the words you said and the look in your eyes. I think I loved you from that night in the Dark House. In all the universe I had no one and then suddenly I had you. You were the answer to a prayer I hadn't been brave enough to say aloud," she said.

He said her name again and she caught his face so when he opened his eyes hers were right there, "You're right. I have spent my life loving Jem. He is kinder and better than most people will ever be. I loved him when he was a dying boy. I loved him when he was half statue, half ghost of himself. I love him now. I will love him long after he has gone on to whatever comes after this life."

"But I've loved you as long," Tessa told him and he gathered her in against his chest. "I loved you when you were cursed and miserable with those tiny flashes when the goodness in you couldn't be suppressed any further. I loved you as a young man mourning his best friend and fighting for his place in the Clave. I loved you as a father with your children climbing into your lap and demanding stories. I loved you as a old man who never stopped doing good in this world. I loved you the day you died and every day since. I love you now, lost and confused and so far from who you were meant to be. I love you, Will."

He still couldn't trust his voice but it wasn't for the same reasons. She was truly crying now and he brushed the tears away from her cheeks. Her skin was soft. His heart hurt just to look at her. She loved him and she still wasn't his. It was almost worse.

She wasn't his and he couldn't find the strength to pull away from her. It wasn't possible, not after she had said that. Had she ever told him before? Had they sat in the same room with his wife and children both of them pretending not to know? He tried to imagine that life and it made the ache worse.

She was the one who tilted his face down but she waited for him to respond to her. He couldn't stop himself from leaning in or from bringing his hand up to cup her face. She smiled and he felt it rather than saw it before she pressed her lips to his. A little part of his mind was still sane enough to tell him not to do it but by the time it got the message through, he could already taste her. He kissed her one more time before taking her by the shoulders and pulling away.

"Jem," he said. Tessa looked at him like she was dizzy and he was speaking in a foreign language. He almost lost the nerve it was taking him to step back. She was so beautiful and he loved her so much and he couldn't imagine doing anything intentional that would make her this sad.

"I can't," Will said, "You can't."

"I know," Tessa said then she gave him a small smile before her face went serious and she said it again, "I know." Her fingers brushed his hand as they both backed up a little bit and she said, "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to put you in this position."

A phone rang.

Tessa jumped and Will reached out to put a hand on her arm just to steady her but pulled back as soon as he made contact with her skin. She was looking at him when she answered it. Jem had explained the basics of the little machine during one of their training sessions when they sat tucked together in the back corner of the training room. It had been late and dark and the blue of the screen had lit Jem's skin an unnatural colour. Jem's shoulder had been against his and more than once he'd leaned in close enough that his hair touched Will's cheek. Will had listened but he still had no idea how to use the phone but at least he now understood what it did.

Tessa's eyes never left him as she had a hurried conversation with Simon in which she convinced him to leave them alone unless they called. She had just been kissing him but she still used that easy "us" when she talked of herself and Jem. Will was suddenly caught by the fear that he had somehow ruined it.

"Jem was going to meet us out front in the car," Tessa said and the past tense didn't escape him.

"All I wanted to hear from you for so long was that you felt even a fraction of what I felt for you. I cannot unhear those words. I can't go sit with him with the taste of you still on my lips," Will said and if he hadn't trained himself out of blushing when he was a child he would have turned scarlet to have said that out loud.

"No, you can't go sit with him with a weight of secrets between you," she said, "I'll tell him whether you do or not. We very nearly killed ourselves trying to keep all the secrets to protect one another when we were young. All the things you didn't tell one another were terrible. The secrets about his health and your curse and me. That is over. I will not go back to it."

Then, before Will could decide how to respond to that, she turned and walked away, leaving him to hurry after her or run away. He strongly considered running. He considered removing himself as far from the situation as he could, locking himself in the room they had assigned him and not coming out until he was sent back to the point in time before he managed to endanger anyone's marriage.

He didn't run. His heart was rattling around inside his chest and his stomach was churning but he didn't run. He followed Tessa.


	14. Don't You Dare

**AN: This is not just a smutty chapter but a kinky smutty chapter (all Jessa). **

Tessa left them alone and went home. She had shut down Jem's suggestions of anything else. They could talk without her there. Jem had the car and had been looking forward to taking Will out driving. He'd been resistant when she'd drawn spells on the vehicle that would function as warding. He cared little for most technology but he loved that car. They'd warded the car the night before and he'd asked questions about whether magic would interrupt the machinery or leave permanent marks anywhere.

She had laughed at the time thinking that she would be there if anything were to go wrong with it. She couldn't be there. She couldn't close herself up in a small space with Will's suppressed anxiety and Jem when he was doing that Silent Brother calm thing that he had been doing on the sidewalk. She talked herself into trusting her own magic and trusting that the two of them could take care of each other if it came to it.

Will couldn't talk to her and would probably never trust her in any way again and she needed the space. She needed to be alone. She needed to think and grieve. That person might be Will but he was not hers and she missed her Will with a ferocity that she hadn't felt in years. Her loss had grown old. It was a scar not a wound. Not anymore. When she was standing on that sidewalk, telling Jem that neither of them were ok, it wasn't old anymore. It was new and fresh and he was gone. He had come back and yet he was still gone.

The pain of that loss was sharp.

She wanted to turn back and throw her arms around him again because he was Will but she knew that he wasn't the person she wanted. He wasn't the one who knew her better than anyone. Will was a part of her and this boy wasn't. He didn't know her secrets and her worst days. He hadn't been there through failures and triumphs. The good and the bad. He didn't know that the people she loved most were the same people he loved.

Will was right there but the person she wanted was irretrievable.

In the silent apartment, she wrapped herself in one of Jem's sweaters and a pair of flannel pajamas. Then she very slowly made a cup of tea and watched the leaves float in the water and the colour deepen. Once the tea was poured and she had brushed out her hair, she was calm enough to breathe normally.

The old rituals helped. They had been true rituals, almost a religion at one point in her life. Hair, tea, and sorting. She sorted books or papers or the kitchen cabinets. It didn't really matter what, what mattered was alphabetizing or building genre lists or finding every expired can of vegetables and throwing it away. Ritual. She did it until she was calm. She controlled things she could control until she was able to let go of the things that she couldn't control.

This time she didn't sort books or food or Jem's music. She would never sort Jem's music on him again. He still gave her funny looks when he saw her with a piece of it in hand even when she was just putting it back on the stand. His madcap piles were apparently not madcap. There was a system that had nothing to do with composers or eras or any other sane method she could understand. She had sworn she wouldn't touch them again.

On the bookshelf in the main room was a long low wooden box with a heron carved on the lid. It had been a Christmas gift from her daughter in 1945. It was exactly the right size to hold letters in envelopes. She took it down off the book shelf and ran her fingers over the wood. There was no dust. Magic kept things better dusted than a maid might but even if it weren't for the magic this would be clean.

Will had written her more than a hundred letters over the later years of his life. He hadn't told her about it while he was doing it. He had told her of their existence in the same breath that he apologized fro them. He told her where to find them and how sorry he was to have written them. He didn't tell her that he had written even more to Jem. She found that out a long time later.

"You should burn them Tessa, I had thought," he had stopped talking, his voice failing for just a moment before he continued, "It doesn't matter because it was hubris. Burn them if you need to. You shouldn't live in the past and they'll never be anything but the past. I shouldn't have forced them on you. You deserve everything the future will bring. Promise that you will always look forward."

She had promised and she had tried to live up to that promise.

She had also kept every one.

They were the past but the past was a piece of her and a piece of the present as well. There were opened ones tucked back into their envelopes and filed near the back and the unopened ones at the front. It was these that she picked out and started to sort. She read them rarely. She saved them like a miser with pennies and even still the unopened section was smaller than the ones she had left to read for the first time.

Each one had an inscription. Always her name but sometimes not only her name. Over the years she had found the patterns. The doodled envelopes were always silly notes. The ones that repeated her name Tess, Tess, Tessa, on the front were love letters. The ones that simply said, Tessa could be anything. There were even ones that were simply literary criticism or little journal entries detailing his day. They were shards of the life she'd lost saved on pieces of cream coloured stationery.

She sorted through the ones she hadn't yet read. The paper was heavy and old and charmed to protect it from growing brittle. The handwriting changed just slightly. Once she had her piles sorted by salutation, she picked up the pile of love letters and resorted by handwriting. She looked for the weakest. She wanted something written by Will late in his life, as far from the boy Jem was driving around in an expensive car as he would ever be.

She picked one and turned it in her hands.

Tess, Tess, Tessa.

That was all it said on the front. The same salutation he'd used in the first letter he had written her, the one she still had memorized. The handwriting, in dark blue ink, wavered just a little on the long strokes of the Ts. The visual memory that came with running her fingers over the ink was vibrant and forced her to close her eyes and pull herself tighter into Jem's sweater until it passed.

Her memories of him - like her grief - were old. They were stretched and tattered from being taken out too many times but Will was here and the colour of his eyes was as recent to her as the colour of her own. The memory didn't feel old. It brought her back to the cabin in Wales where he pushed snow white hair off his forehead and held up papers to read new chapters of his most recent history aloud to her so she could pick out his errors before he mailed them off to his editors.

That was the Will who had written this. Will who had to meter how long he wrote so that his joints didn't bother him. It had never stopped him but it had slowed him down. In this memory her mind called up his fingers were ink stained and pale and his skin crinkled into wrinkles around his knuckles.

"Remember when my hands were graceful?" he'd said waving his fingers at her.

"Yes, you're an ugly old goat now. I should divorce you. I only ever liked you because you were pretty," she'd said barely looking up from her book.

"I hate you," he had said.

"I hate you too," she had grinned at him and finally looked up from whatever she was reading to see those eyes staring out of a face so utterly familiar she imagined she could recognize it in the pitch blank. Growing old had never made him less perfectly handsome. Different but never less. He had laughed and thrown a crumpled up piece of a draft at her. His aim had been good. He had hit her in the head with the ball of paper. As he read her the most recent paragraphs she had rerolled the ball thrown it back. He'd caught it without breaking what he was reading.

"It needs more sword fights. I'm becoming a stodgy old man," he said grimacing at the page when he had finished. He gestured with the ball of garbage while he spoke.

"They edit the sword fights out, they've done in to your last three drafts. It's a history not a penny dreadful," Tessa had told him.

Tessa smiled at the letter in her hands and savoured the reality of the memory. She had forgotten that it had ever happened until her mind dredged it up for her. The way his voice sounded and the way that room smelled when it was being heated by the wood stove. It was a little like being there.

She opened the letter and began to read.

Jem shook her awake very gently with his hand on her shoulder. He brushed the remains of tears off her cheeks with the pads of his fingers and helped her gather up the letters. They were still spread in stacks around her. She had only opened one new one but then she had reread everything else that was already open. Jem refolded the open ones and put them back where they belonged. He didn't say a word.

He settled down beside her on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She leaned in. There were no more tears, she'd run out. He stroked her hair and smoothed it back.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Confused," Jem said.

"Will he ever speak to me again?" she asked and her voice was a near whisper. She had been wrong, there were still tears. She bit them back and held onto Jem a little tighter.

"Why wouldn't he speak to you?" Jem asked.

"I betrayed you," she said.

"You did not," he said.

"In his mind, I did, utterly," Tessa said, "I did and Will is far more likely to forgive me for breaking his heart than he is to forgive me for breaking yours."

"Don't talk to me about everyone else's broken heart while you are the one crying yourself to sleep in the middle of the afternoon," Jem said. His fingers found her face and tilted it upwards.

She stared at him until she started to understand his expression. Pain and resolve and over it all that unshakable Brother Zachariah calm that had nothing to do with the real Jem. He was preparing to say something and she didn't want to hear it. Panic flared in the pit of Tessa's stomach.

"Tessa," he started.

"Don't you dare," she said and her voice was almost too thick with emotion to choke out even that many words. "Don't you dare even suggest it. Don't."

His face was so calm that she almost hit him. She didn't believe that calm, not an inch of it. Sensing it, or maybe just wanting to draw her attention, he gathered both her hands in his and held on. Her eyes darted over his features but couldn't find anything to focus on so she shut them.

"You love him," Jem started.

"Would you really say it?" Tessa asked, her eyes flying open.

"It's true," he said.

"I love him, yes, that's true. Of course that's true. You know that, you've known that for so long. That's not what I meant. Don't say it. Don't say it. I don't want it and I don't even want to hear it," she said.

"Tess," he said again.

"I love you," she said putting all the emphasis on you. She did choke on the emotion this time and he was wiping tears off her face when she said, "I love you and I waited lifetimes for you to come home to me. If you dare even suggest leaving, I don't know what I'll do. Don't tell me you're going to leave me for my own good or something stupid like that. Don't even say it."

"You would choose me over him?" Jem said it so softly she nearly missed it.

"Are you asking me to? Are you asking me to tell you that I love you more? Because I don't. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. But I have also never loved anyone the way that I loved him. There is no measure of it. There is no mathematical formula to explain it and make some definitive ruling. Love doesn't work like that," Tessa sounded angry and she stopped to collect herself.

Jem watched her as she swallowed and pulled all the scattered bits of her emotions back in close. She held onto his hands and looked down at their fingers. Hers were smaller and paler than his and the lattice of scars and old runes on his knuckles seemed to hold secrets the longer she looked at the patterns.

"I will go see him again. I will worry about him and I will fight the Clave on every terrible decision they make and I will love him. I can't stop. He's so young that he doesn't know who he truly is yet. He isn't Will as I want him to be and yet he is. I love this piece of him too. You of all people should understand that," Tessa said. Jem nodded very slowly.

Her head snapped up and she looked him in the eye when she said the next part, "I shouldn't have to tell you that I will never choose a life that doesn't have you in it. I have never willingly chosen that life and I never will. Do not offer to leave me and think you're doing me a favour," she said. She wanted him to tell her that she was wrong and he hadn't been planning on saying that. Sitting among those letters, wrapped up in the loss of Will, Jem was the thing that kept her sane. The very theory of him leaving was shattering and terrifying.

"Would you ask me not to see him?" she asked.

"I'm not asking you to do that. That's not what I want. I just want you to be happy, I'd give up anything to make you happy," Jem said catching her face between his hands.

"You make me happy," she murmured. At some point in the conversation he'd gone from sitting beside her to kneeling in front of her. The sofa was low enough and he was tall enough that she only needed to lean down a little bit to accept the hug he offered. Whether he pulled her down or she slid into his lap on her own didn't matter once she was wrapped in his arms.

"Promise me," she said.

"I promise I won't ask you to abandon him. He needs you. He's always needed you. And Tessa, believe me, I would never leave you. I promise you that, I will never leave you. As long as you want me I am right here," he said.

She nodded against his chest and he held her a little tighter.

She tilted her head up and kissed his neck just below his ear. He made a soft noise and relaxed. She pulled herself closer to him and kissed a line from his collar to his ear as he exhaled very slowly. They moved together without Tessa having to explain what she wanted. She swung her knees so that they straddled his and he held her close with his arms around her waist.

She could look at him properly now. She ran fingers over his eyebrows and his nose and his cheeks. She leaned in and kissed his eyes when they fell shut. Her fingers played over the shape of his mouth first and she paused before her lips followed.

"Tell me that again, the last part," she said and he looked at her with eyes that were a little hazy.

"I love you and I will never leave you," he said.

"I love you and I will always choose you," she said and then she closed the kiss. He caught her head with a strong hand and prevented her from kissing him with the intensity she had intended. Instead she found herself being kissed gently and repeatedly. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her throat and then started over again.

She protested how slow he was and he caught her wrists when she tried to slide her hands into his hair and pull him closer that way. His hands were large enough that it only took one to hold both her wrists in place. She fell still and gave him a very small smile. It was an offer.

There was a possessive streak in Jem that she rarely saw. She had never seen insecurity bring it out before. For a moment she was angry with herself for giving him any reason to doubt her but it settled fast. Doubts could be erased. He saw the change in her expression and stopped. They were nose to nose. His eyes were all question but the moment was silent.

"Anything you want, I'll do whatever you ask," she said.

"That's a dangerous offer," he said.

"Not with you," she said. "I trust you."

His hand was no longer holding her head, instead it lay flat against the side of her neck. The other one still held her wrists. He was considering her with dark eyes and just the hint of a smile. The Zachariah mask was long gone. There was no one here but her Jem.

"Would you rather I didn't stop or made you wait for it?" Jem asked taking her silent offer and turning it into an idea that made her entire body warm just a little. . When they'd first been together, any request to put what he wanted into words was met with a flush that coloured his face to the roots of his hair. Those days were gone. These days he was much more demanding.

She considered his question as she spread her knees a little wider so their bodies were pressed together everywhere that she could manage. His eyes were darker and his hand on her wrists was just a little too tight. Anyone else might have been frightening but Tessa couldn't imagine being frightened of Jem. He was asking to hold her down and offering the kind of sex that meant giving him complete control. He would push her from one orgasm into the next until she couldn't quite remember her own name.

She still chose the other option, "Wait for it."

His face broke into the first smile she'd seen on it since he'd grinned up at her on the Institute steps before seeing her expression.

"You don't like that as much," he said.

She felt herself blush when she said, "It's maddening but I like it."

"But you chose it because I like it," he said.

"Yes," she said. "I like it but I love how much you like it."

"I'm going to take my time and begging won't help you," he said and she could hear the offer in his voice to take another option.

"I don't beg," she said. She wanted possessive demanding Jem. She wasn't going to take the offer of something gentler or easier because it would mean taking some of the edge off of his dark eyes and that little twitch of a smile.

"Yes, you do and you will tonight," he spoke into her ear and every piece of too hot skin on her body shivered with the words. She felt the smile on his lips against her ear and her neck as he lifted her up to the sofa.

Jem when he was like this canceled out every demanding instinct of her own. She let him put her where he wanted her and she did as she was told. He stood up and she ran her fingers up his thighs to his waist band and he trapped her wrists again before she could touch anything she wanted. It was hard but she fell perfectly still and looked up at him.

"You get to go first otherwise it won't last nearly as long as I plan for it to," he said. She licked her lips and leaned back to wait for what he had planned. He kissed her gently and traced patterns on her neck with his finger tips. She stopped short of pulling him in against her but her fingers traced answering patterns up his arms and his chest and his face because she couldn't stop from touching him.

It was compulsive the way that touching Will had been but this was perfectly matched gravity pulling them together. There was nothing standing in their way and she could throw herself into the pull of him without doubts or worries slowing her down.

He tugged on her sweater and gave her a puppy dog look so incongruous with his demanding body language that she laughed as pulled the shirt off and tossed it away. She didn't look up to see but it landed on the same table where they had set Will's box of letters. She was too busy watching Jem's eyes for the next challenge.

His fingers moved over her shoulders and down her bare arms. She still wore a cotton bra and his fingers stepped over the strap as they moved towards her wrists. They stepped over again on their way back up. She was responding far to fast to fingers on her wrists and she tried to calm herself but forcing her breathing into sane patterns only helped until his fingers found her waist. The skin across her stomach crackled and she gasped as though he'd ran ice over her.

"This is too easy," he said into her ear as he leaned down over her. She was usually able to manage her body better than this. He couldn't usually shatter her self control this quickly. He was right. She was going to beg and she was going to do it far earlier than she usually would.

"How scandalized would Will be if I thanked him?" Jem asked. His mouth was against her skin and she could feel the same energy that crackled through her running in him as well.

She froze at Will's name and found Jem's face. It took her a moment to understand what he had said and then another to understand what it meant. She waited to see if pain came with the name but it didn't. He knew that he'd said the wrong thing but he waited for her to react before he apologized. The energy crackled between them and she put her hands to his waist band and tucked her fingers into it to pull him a little closer.

"Very," she said once she was sure the pain wasn't coming, "I'm a little scandalized that you would say that and I'm not a Victorian teenager."

Jem laughed softly in relief perhaps that he hadn't destroyed the moment by saying that. She smiled back as he continued, "Do you want to be scandalized? I can be scandalous. I can tell you that if kissing him is going to get you this worked up then you should do it more often."

"Jem!" she said.

"I don't think I even need to touch you right now to get a reaction," he said. His smile was easy and confident and her body betrayed her by shivering when he blew on the skin of her neck.

"You mean that," she said looking at the smile.

"Yes, see," he did it again and this time she didn't react as strongly because she was too busy looking at his face.

"No, about kissing other people," she said.

"Not other people, Will," Jem said. "Is there anyone else you want to be kissing?"

"You," she said softly.

"That's unfortunate, I seem to have terrible aim tonight," he said still grinning. He kissed her cheek and when she turned to meet him he dropped a little lower and kissed her on the chin then near her eyebrow. She laughed when he got her nose. His mouth was on her collarbone when she got tired of losing the game of hide and seek and tried to turn his face towards her with her hands.

He grabbed her wrists again and raised his eyebrows. His fingers ringed her wrists. She pouted just a little through her smile but honoured the terms of the game. She stopped struggling and sat still. Jem leaned in and touched her nose with his which made her laugh again.

"I thought you were doing as you were told tonight," he said.

"So tell me what to do then," she said.

"I would like you to take off the rest of your clothing," he said.

There were smart ass comments to be made. There was any number of sarcastic things to say but instead she stood up and stood back and started pulling clothing off very slowly. He reached out and she shooed his hand away.

"No helping," she said. "If you wanted to be the one to take my clothes off you should have said so. I'm only doing what I'm told."

He laughed and sat back with his hands folded. The way he watched her made her want to blush and turn around. In the flood of shyness she closed the distance between them and this time when he put his hands on her bare thighs and slid up towards the last piece of clothing she still wore she didn't stop him. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. He barely touched her and she barely contained a little gasp.

They stood together now. Him in dark jeans and a polo shirt and her wearing nothing at all. The room around them was quiet, even the cat had made himself scarce.

He never said it in so many words but she knew that he liked having her naked when he wasn't. His eyes roamed over her body before his hands followed them. She leaned her face against his neck still seeking comfort as much as she sought the kind of touch he kept skipping over. He stroked her hair and offered that comfort but his hands traced frustratingly chaste lines down her back and arms and all the wrong parts of her stomach. She murmured a protest against his neck.

"Are you begging yet?" he asked.

"Shush," she said shaking her head.

His hand closed on her breast. He was gentle but the change from no contact to that soft pressure made her gasp. She cuddled closer and arched her back to push herself against him. He caught her other breast in his other hand, still gentle.

"Look at me?" he said and she did. He held her breasts and he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and watched her expression which she already had no control over.

"Time to go to bed," he said before gathering her in a fireman's carry and tossing her over his shoulder. She yelped in surprise and he laughed at her.

He dropped her onto her back in the middle of the bed and then climbed up after her. She spread her knees and lay flat in an offer she knew he wasn't going to take yet. Just having him over her made her stomach tighten and he wasn't touching her at all.

He kissed the skin near her knee and then kissed an excruciatingly slow line up the inside of her thigh. When his mouth made contact in the right place she tried to tell her body not to be so relieved. His tongue ran over her, tracing the lines and folds of her body there as she tried to stay still. He was slow and her fingers were in his hair tracing the same rhythm through the strands.

The contact changed and there was pressure to go with the movement. She adjusted her hips and let her head fall back. Her fingers were still in his hair but twisted now. His hands found her thighs and pinned them down to the mattress. Not hard but inescapable. She had been relaxing into him and he was reminding her of the offer she had made. This wasn't going to end with the release she could feel building. This was going to end with frustration before he moved on to something else which would also end with frustration and the frustration would build until she was half mad with it.

When he stopped and pulled away she twisted from the hips but he was too strong for it to do any good. For a brief instinctual moment she fought his hands with all her strength. He didn't even noticed the switch to a true struggle. The panicked realization that there was nothing at all she could do to stop him rocked through her but vanished when she met his eyes. Dark brown with just hints of gold and silver. The panic evaporated because it was Jem.

"Let go," she whispered and he did. Immediately. Her breathing was too fast but that had more to do with what he hadn't finished doing than the panicked moment. She stayed in the place where he had held her though his hands were braced on the mattress on either side of her waist and she could have pulled back from him easily.

He reached up to run his thumb along her lip and she pulled it into her mouth. His smile told her he got the hint but instead of taking off any of his clothing he wove his fingers into her hair and laid down beside her. She turned to keep him where she could see him as his fingers ran down her stomach and didn't stop.

"Are you going to beg yet?" he asked touching places that would not bring her the release she still hovered at the edge of. He knew by touch where his fingers were and he watched her face while he walked them down her thigh then back again.

A stubborn competitiveness and just a little bit of pride made her shake her head and say, "You're not even bothering me yet."

"No?" he asked.

His fingers found their way inside and her mouth fell open as she pushed her hips down to meet the intrusion.

"Maybe just a little," she said.

He stroked her hair and whispered little soothing noises into her ear as his hand stayed perfectly still. Two fingers as far inside as they could reach and his thumb not-so-accidentally brushing against her. He caught her hip with his other hand but couldn't hold her in place as her hips tried to find the movement that he wouldn't offer her.

"Don't move, Tess," he whispered into her ear.

She groaned but stopped moving. It took a lot more willpower than she thought she had left. He flicked his thumb over the very right spot and her whole body reacted. She yelped and it took a long few moments for her to settle to being still again. She was so close and she could feel that confident smile where his face rested beside her ear as he talked to her. It wasn't just the physical contact that was making her body feel too hot. It was also how much Jem liked each reaction. Each time she was sure she couldn't do it again, she would feel the smile against her ear or he'd slide his body in just a little closer to her. He was lying right against her when he thrust with his fingers and pushed her too close to the edge and she cried out.

He stopped and left her at the start of the orgasm. She wasn't quite sure what she was saying when he kissed her but it was probably begging. She felt needy and desperate enough for it to be begging. She lost herself in the kiss. He had laced his fingers with hers and held them above her head against the pillow so she couldn't use her hands to finish what his had started. His knees were between hers so she couldn't close them. She didn't care for a moment. She threw all her frustration into the kiss and he answered her intensity with his own.

There was a moment of confusion when she found herself kneeling with him on the bed. She didn't quite remember how she had gotten from flat on her back to sitting. His arm was around her waist which was a pretty good clue. She twisted her fingers into his shirt and tried to remember how it came off. He did it for her and she kissed her way down his neck and across his shoulder. Then she worked her way down to his stomach. He had to stand to get his pants off.

Once he was as naked as she was she considered trying to match his teasing but she wanted too much to even attempt it. He had to brace his hand on the wall to avoid falling over while standing on the mattress. He was already hard and he groaned when she ran her tongue over him. She caught him in her hands and settled her breathing and found enough shards of calm to remember the things that he liked.

He took her wrists and she froze in confusion and looked up at him.

"I want you to, just no hands," he said.

She nodded because she didn't trust herself to speak. He held her wrists, one in each hand while she took him back into her mouth. It was harder to do without a hand to guide the angle. With him inside her mouth she ran her tongue along the bottom of the shaft and he responded with not a shift of his hips but a thrust that pushed it too far back. She pulled away with a caught and he dropped down in front of her with an apology that she interrupted with a kiss.

"You're a little needy," he laughed, "Do you want something?"

"I need you," she said and kissed him again.

He pushed her and she fell back onto the mattress. He positioned himself in just the right place but didn't enter her.

"Relax," he said, "Stay still."

She let out a hiss of breath, she knew he was close and she had thought it was over. Once she was still he pushed into her just a little and then linked his fingers with hers again and stretched them up over her head. He held her in place as effectively as if he had tied her down and the competitive part of her tested how tightly he held on. They were nose to nose and he grinned at her and held a little tighter when she tugged on the restraint.

"Try a little harder," he said and she was struggling against him in response to the challenge when he entered her. He slid all the way in and she cried out. They were pressed together. His weight held her down but all she cared about was that he was finally close enough. She was begging now, pleading with her mouth against his. He held still just long enough to convince her that she couldn't survive this near release any longer.

He moved from his hips, a slow rolling motion that pressed her down against the mattress. He held her hands a little tighter and stretched her arms a little farther. There weren't any spaces between them and he stayed that tight to her even as he started to thrust harder and then harder still as his own control finally fell apart.

All the control was his, she barely had the room to move to meet him though her body knew his well enough to match the thrusts. He might have been close but she was far closer. He managed to stop before she came.

"Damn it Jem, please don't stop," she said. The panic didn't come back though she was more tightly held in place than she had been before. He was still inside her and she was so close that she couldn't stop the little rocking of her hips.

"Are you begging?" he asked.

"Yes, please, yes," she said.

He rolled them so she was astride him and the switch from helplessness to being on top made her freeze for a second. She had forgotten how to do it but then he was inside her again and her conscious mind's inability to remember how her legs worked didn't matter.

She rocked against him until her back arched and she screamed. He pulled her down and kissed her as he rolled her back onto her back and pinned her again. It was a sort of relief to have him take the control back. He didn't stop and she found herself trapped on the crest of the orgasm instead of the start of it. She was incoherent and when he released her hands she wrapped her arms around him and held on. She was shaking when he came as hard as she had and they collapsed together.

They were wrapped up in each other, tight and close. He stroked her skin wherever his fingers found it and she let any last shreds of anxiety go. He was hers. Jem Carstairs belonged right there and she knew it was true beyond any doubt. The little happy almost tune he was humming against her temple as he ran his fingers over her skin let her know that he knew it too.


	15. Not Other People

**AN: Hello Jem/Will scene. I'm glad people liked the Jessa scene in the last chapter - I was worried that I'd catch flames for taking that particular couple in that particular direction but hey most of the response has been either positive or at least quiet. I also stopped writing kissing scenes long enough to actually remember that this fic has a plot and there's actually some plot movement in this chapter but then back to kissing. **

Will was sitting in the library when Maryse came in with the bundle and dumped it on the same table where he sat. He smoothed the instinctual scowl off of his face before he looked up at her. She was neatly dressed and she had carefully painted blue nails that matched her eyes. Will found himself using her as a benchmark for what counted as respectable in this century.

She gave him a brief smile before turning to her papers and he went back to his book. It felt strange to sit at a table with the woman like they were friends. He didn't think of Maryse as his friend. He was only barely starting to think of Alec as his friend and Maryse was his mother. Will stole little glances at what she was doing.

He tried to imagine having the job that she held, the job that Charlotte did every day. If Jem was right it was a job that he would do as well. He started watching a little more carefully to try and figure out what system she was using to organize the papers.

"Did Tessa learn anything interesting?" Maryse asked. Tessa's name rocked Will back into the moment. He stopped considering the seals on the envelopes and instead tried to push out the powerful memory of Tessa's expression when she had told him she loved him.

"Not much," Will said. "There doesn't seem to be much to learn. The spell that was following me before wasn't there. Nothing much happened."

Jem had driven him around the neighbourhood in his charcoal gray horseless carriage with leather seats and a sound system that played music from hidden places. Will had enjoyed watching the cars go by and seeing the little shops that were tucked into the bottoms of the very tall buildings. It had been much like riding in a carriage at home but smoother and quieter and with far more levers and buttons than were required to control a horse.

Jem had tried to talk him out of feeling anxious and guilty. It hadn't quite worked. Jem was far too kind and he forgave things that should have been unforgivable. Once that had been an essential part of their friendship but Will had hoped that he was becoming someone better. Someone who deserved even a fraction of the support and friendship Jem offered him.

"So are you that angry with Tessa too?" Jem had asked him as they crossed a bridge and headed towards the freeway.

Will hadn't had a response for that. He wasn't angry with Tessa. He was furious with himself for having kissed her but couldn't put any of that anger on her. She had been so immeasurably sad when she'd told him that she had loved him for his entire life. He had taken advantage. The longer he thought about it the more ways he had found to blame himself.

"Jem took me driving on the freeway, it was terrifying," Will said. He hadn't known human beings could build something that traveled that fast. The drive through the neighbourhood had been faster than a carriage ride would have been but hadn't been extreme. The freeway was another matter and Jem's tendency to weave through larger vehicles at atrocious speeds made Will question ever considering him the more stable one. Maryse flashed him a brief smile. She looked like Isabel when she smiled and almost against his will, Will saw her more as a person and less as an envoy of the Clave keeping the doors locked.

"I figured as much," Maryse said.

"And what's that?" Will asked.

"That they were taking you out to play and not to study magics," she said. She had paused and frowned over a letter in her hands.

"And you let them?" Will asked.

"You overestimate my powers if you think I have any ability to stop either of them. Besides, Za- James helped to save my son's life and he did it on your behalf. I still remember the phrasing, 'the debt I owe the Herondale family is deeper than any I owe the Clave.' Silent Brothers do not talk like that. I owe you much more than an opportunity for a Sunday drive. Tessa gave me a good reason to let you out and you are not injured nor has history collapsed around us. Let us all continue to pretend that important magics were studied and we are closer to understanding what happened in Venice," Maryse said with a wave of her hand.

She grimaced at her work as she opened a thick folder and poured the contents onto the table. Will was now fighting for his ability to continue to dislike her.

"You were head of the London Institute," she said.

"So they tell me," Will said in a flat voice.

"So you aren't yet?" she said.

"No, Charlotte Branwell is," he told her. "Considering how they treat her I can't imagine the circumstances that led to her promotion but then I can't imagine anyone being mad enough to appoint me either."

"The Clave is madness and fickle politics. For all that it resists change the political changes are never ending. Aside from politics, the worst part, and you will understand this one day, the worst part of running an Institute is all of this," she gestured at the pile.

"These are all the little things. The complaints, the requests for audience, the petitions and pleas for help. And there are so many you will never be able to manage them all and they will continue to come forever. This isn't even my pile. This is Rome's pile because now I get to sift through everything even tangentially related to Venice. Zachariah couldn't have called in the local Shadowhunters and left this an Italian problem now could he?"

"You don't have help?" Will asked. In London this sort of job had often been done by the entire group of them. He hadn't seen many other Shadowhunters beyond the adult Lightwood children and their friends.

"Have you met Ishaan and Erika?" she asked.

"No, they have been kept far away from my terrible influence," Will said. He knew of their existence, young Shadowhunters left orphaned by the Dark War they had been taken in by the Institute. They were in their early teens, younger than Will but still closer to his age than Jace and Alec were. He hadn't met them though he had seen them being herded out of rooms before he entered them.

"We're trying to maintain -" Maryse started.

Will cut her off, "I know. No, I have not met Ishaan and Erika."

"They're a little stupid. Kind enough in Ishaan's case and a marvelous fighter in Erika's but sheltered in some ways. They are not good choices to help sort correspondence. No one else is technically under my direct command within these walls. The Shadowhunter community is so small these days. There are those in the city I could call on to help and they would be required to come but it would make them cranky to be called in to sort the post," the last two words she said in a very heavy fake British accent. Her normal accent was pure Idris. To a Shadowhunter it was an immediately recognizable accent but to the rest of the world it was somewhere between British and French with just a touch of the singsong rhythm of an Italian.

Will was bored and he was used to this being the sort of task he was called on to do. He could also hear something of Charlotte's need to prove herself without asking for outside assistance in Maryse's voice. She didn't seem to Will to have anything left to prove. She was Institute Head and everyone he had seen speak to her did so with the utmost respect but the uncertainty was there under her words.

He reached out and dragged a piece of the pile from Rome over to himself and started reading. Maryse smiled at him not like he was a problem to be solved but like he was a person.

He looked up more than an hour later when Jem entered the room. He had spread a few papers out in front of himself and was rereading them, trying to make sure he was right before he waved Maryse over from where she'd moved on to New York's business. His pile of discarded messages detailing various complaints was far larger than the seventeen pieces in front of him.

Jem came and leaned over his shoulder to look at it all. Will was so absorbed in the problem that he didn't remember to be uncomfortable with Jem's presence. Jem's promises from the day before that kissing Tessa wasn't something he would hold against him came trickling back into Will's attention slowly. Having a real problem to sort out was a marvelous distraction.

Jem had told him that he knew and had known for a very long time and it wasn't nearly as comforting as it should have been. Will tried to imagine living with that unspoken secret. Something everyone knew and no one talked about. Will very carefully didn't think about that as he waited for Jem's brain to finish turning over the information on the table.

He was sure but Jem hadn't confirmed it so it wasn't true yet.

"When?" Jem asked tapping a piece of paper.

"Two weeks before," Will told him lifting up the sheet to show him the one beneath it. He'd stacked the matching documents up with the oldest on the bottom and the most recent on the top.

"There are gaps," Jem said.

"Mundanes don't send requests to the Nephilim," Will said. "Everything else is accounted for."

Jem leaned past him and read a few of the repeated requests for assistance where they had piled up. He leaned his elbows against the scratched table surface as he picked things up and then started reorganizing Will's layout. He left little spaces in between some of the piles.

"Am I right on the time?" he asked.

"These two disappeared at the same time and she went missing over a week before but otherwise yes, you've got the order right," Will said.

"What is it?" Maryse appeared at the desk and sat down across from them.

"Missing persons," Jem said.

"Missing downworlders," Will corrected, "Look at the dates."

It took Maryse longer to see what Jem had seen almost immediately but then no one else understood the inner workings of Will's brain as well as Jem did.

The dates lined up with the dates that the portals had dropped the Arrivals in Venice. A few days before in most cases over a week in the two unusual ones.

"These are Nephilim," Maryse said picking up one of the little piles. "They're a parabatai team from Idris. They've only been gone two weeks but they were meant to be recruiting so no one noticed until Sergei's wife complained that the Clave was keeping him away for too long."

"Alison and I are Nephilim," Will said, "There's only two of us. Look at the dates on the werewolf here. She matches up with Edith's Arrival almost exactly."

"The spell is switching people," Jem said. "It isn't just pulling people out of time it's dropping others back into their places. Sergei is probably standing on the street corner that Will left and Celina is likely wherever Alison was when she disappeared."

Maryse swore colourfully and Will grinned at her.

Though she thanked them for their help she then told them to leave. Neither of them were officially Clave members and she was going to have to call the Consul and the other Institutes to start tracking this new information.

"Aren't you a Clave member?" Will asked Jem as they walked down the hall. Will felt better than he had in days. He and Jem had solved a problem as they were meant to, as they always had. It felt like there might be some movement on figuring out how they arrived and how they might be returned. Will was nearly giddy with it.

"Retired," Jem said. "Which largely means they pay me to stay out of their way. Ex-Silent Brothers are not a thing that happens. I make normal people rather uncomfortable. That Tessa defies definition almost as much as I do and has something of a history of being contrary to the Clave just makes keeping us out of everyone's hair more of a motivator."

"You've been around a lot here," Will said.

"You're here," Jem said and Will smiled at the way he stated it as a simple fact. "I occasionally stop by to say hello to Jace and the others and Tessa spends almost as much time with Magnus and Alec and that baby as she does with me but as to Clave dealings, we don't get involved if we can avoid it."

"We used to be we," Will said.

"We're still we," Jem immediately understood what he meant.

"We should go on patrol," Will said.

"We aren't allowed," Jem said. "You're under house arrest and I'm not a Clave member.

"Bollocks," Will said. "I can't spend any more time thinking. I need to get out of this place before I start beating the walls and screaming like a Bedlamite. Maryse can't stop us from leaving."

"But when the people she is currently calling show up to ask questions and make nuisances of themselves we will need to be here," Jem said. "Don't start trouble just because you're bored."

"I'm not bored," Will snapped and once his mouth was open words just kept coming out, "I'm spending all my time thinking about kissing Tessa and I can't do that. Either the thinking or the kissing. I am losing my mind and if you say just about anything right now you will make it worse so shut up."

Will bit back the anger as Jem gave him an even look and then a little bit of a smile before he said, "How about I beat the hell out of you?"

"Excuse me?" Will asked.

"I can rather easily take you in a fight right now," Jem said. "You're off balance and I am drastically better than I used to be and I was already much better than you back then."

"Stop creating alternate versions of history, Carstairs," Will said.

"Try me," Jem said.

More time in the training room was not going to solve a single one of Will's problems but he couldn't turn down the challenge. That Jem could manipulate him quite that easily annoyed him but didn't change the fact that it worked. Jem was providing him a distraction from everything that crept back in as soon as Maryse had taken away his problem.

They'd trained together since he'd arrived but they hadn't actually set a challenge like this. They argued terms of what counted as winning or losing and whether they would play to rounds or a single bout. Jem had done this to him once not long after they'd met, before the parabatai bond had been forged. He had such a great advantage in training that he'd cajoled and challenged Will into a fight that he couldn't win. When Jem had started getting worse they'd stopped actually trying to best one another because it stopped being a fair challenge but that first challenge had been a lesson for Will. He'd thrown himself into training differently after that.

He hated to lose and he had been impressed. He worked first to be as fast as Jem was then to be able to match the graceful ways of turning falls into attacks. Bit by bit, he trained Jem's Shadowhunter grace into his own fighting style.

Jem left his shoulder bag in Will's room and went to change into a borrowed set of training gear. By the time they made it upstairs the terms were set and Will was looking forward to it. He'd agreed begrudgingly because though he was loathe to admit it, Jem was better. He knew it but he stood in the room ready to start that fight anyways.

Jem tossed him a staff once they'd made sure there was no one in the room to question whether or not they were actually trying to kill each other. The piece of wood was as tall as he was and he stepped out into the center of the room where he would have room to swing it.

"What's this?" Will asked.

"It's a damn stick," Jem said with a smile that told him there was more to that statement than he understood. He started to question it but Jem took his feet out from under him with an easy swipe of the stick.

"Damn it," Will said from where he lay on his back.

"Point for me. I told you it was a damn stick," he said.

"Ass," Will said but he came up swinging. Arguing that Jem wasn't playing fair wasn't worth it. He'd tried before but apparently Jem's mother was the type of person who taught fairness based on a model that other human beings would never understand. It was probably the reason that Jem had managed to accept his illness without losing his will to live. It also meant he didn't always fight in a way Will considered proper.

He also fought better than Will had expected. Will had expected to lose but not like this. It had taken years of work but Will considered himself to be very good. Jem was better. Jem wasn't just a little better but leaps and bounds better. He was making good on his offer. Will was bruised by too stubborn to back down. Jem hadn't even had to get close. He moved in and took Will down with two or three strikes of the damn stick. Over and over.

"You did not get this good in the last few years," Will said.

"I was a Silent Brother for two lifetimes. That's a lot more than a few years. I'm actually very out of practice. I trained a lot more there than I do here," Jem said.

"150 some years of training," Will said.

"Against your - what is it - five?" Jem smiled. Will tried to catch him by surprise but Jem blocked the strike easily and parried back a few steps before he knocked Will down again.

"You're intentionally being an ass," Will said.

"That may be true," Jem said. Will had gotten to his feet and was moving in again. When Jem lunged in he dropped his own staff and grabbed Jem's. It wasn't enough to stop him from falling but he pulled Jem down with him. He ended up on his back again but this time Jem wasn't standing over him looking smug. He was sprawled against him looking startled. Not a win but at least not so definitively a loss.

"Ass," Jem told him and when Will met his eyes to say something else the look there wasn't what he expected. Will's own comment died on his lips though he couldn't quite say why. There was nothing in the look that Will could put into words. He had stopped questioning that Jem's dark eyes were truly Jem's but he hadn't been close enough to see the little bits that had never regained their colour and still flashed silver like stars in the black of night.

He got lost in them for a moment and he could feel Jem's breath on his cheek. Will laughed softly though he didn't know why and Jem pushed up and backpedaled.

"What were you -" Will started as he followed him out into the room.

"Nothing sane," Jem interrupted him and he looked towards the window without seeming to see it.

"You've still got silver in your eyes," Will said.

"Yes, Tess will tell you something poetic about starry nights if you mention it to her but yes, the recovery wasn't perfect. My lungs are never going to be as healthy as they should be either, too much damage to ever be entirely healed," Jem said and he still didn't look away from the window.

Will hadn't seen Jem off balance in a very long time. Even when Tessa had been sick he had been the stable one, the one giving orders and organizing everything. Now he was rambling about his lungs. Will grinned at him feeling suddenly just as unbalanced but irrationally happier about it.

"What were you thinking?" Will asked him closing the distance. Jem's body language changed, just a little defensive as he felt Will move towards him. Will still wasn't sure what to expect but the thrill of being able to make Jem uneasy made him want to laugh even if he didn't know why he was able to do it.

"Nothing sane," Jem repeated finally looking at him and the pieces of his calm and collected persona were sliding back into place over the emotions underneath. Will sometimes forgot that there were emotions underneath. Jem seemed too calm to have anything unbalanced hiding under the surface.

Will wanted to stop the calm from sliding back in. He wanted to know who this Jem was, this one who shifted his shoulders in discomfort and had a nervous tick in his fingers. Did Tessa get to see Jem with his walls down like this? Was this new, some after effect of being a Brother or had there always been a turbulent person hidden under Jem's easy calm?

Will stepped in so they were nose to nose again and rather than reeling back or shoving him off, Jem fell still and met his gaze briefly. Jem caught him by the shoulders but didn't move more than that. He didn't hold him, he just put his hands there. Contact like all the little moments of touch they had made a part of their time together.

They were closer again and Will couldn't remember how it had happened. Jem hadn't been able to hold his gaze but he looked up again and this time he didn't shy away. The look was back. The look that Will couldn't decipher though he always understood Jem. It held him but he couldn't make sense of it.

Then Jem tilted his head and they were breathing the same air for a moment. A moment that stretched and was both longer and shorter than seemed possible. Jem hesitated but Will finally understood it and answered it not with a look but the kiss that Jem hadn't been able to start.

It was just a brush of lips. Jem's eyes fell shut and then snapped open and Will had a moment of panic that he had misread the look but it was still there and had an incredulous smile to go with it. Jem's defensiveness fell away and he kissed him properly with that smile still on the corners of his mouth. He pulled him in and kissed him hard.

Will could count his kisses. He would run out of kisses before he ran out of fingers. For every girl he'd ever kissed that felt like the right phrase, he had done the kissing. Even Tessa's responsiveness and the way she could demand things with a nuzzle didn't feel like this.

Jem did the kissing. He took the lead.

Will let him. He might have imagined Jem as gentle but there was none of that gentleness in this kiss. He pulled Will in and held him where he wanted him to be and it didn't occur to Will to do anything but follow where he was guided.

The arm around his waist held him close and Jem was strong enough that it felt inescapable. Not that he tried. He had an arm around Jem's neck and the other hand was fisted into his shirt. Jem tasted a little of coffee and Will couldn't remember when the kiss had become so much deeper. His stomach twisted each time he felt Jem's tongue.

Jem paused and they were breathing hard as he caught Jem's face between his hands. He knew it was Jem. It could be no one else. Still, he was surprised to find Jem's partly open mouth and his night sky eyes there in front of him. The real world tugged on his attention but he ignored it in favour of being the one to start this one. Jem responded but didn't try to take back the lead.

Not unlike his failures on the training floor, kissing Jem left him feeling like he was the graceless one. A clumsy child playing at a game he didn't quite understand. Will backed them up into a wall and was surprised out of the kiss by the impact. Jem gave him a smile that said he wasn't doing nearly as poorly as he had feared.

The kisses had been hard. Desire and surprise and feelings that hadn't ever had a shape before. Will considered the depth of his own madness as he looked at Jem's face. The feelings hadn't been intended to have a shape. They hadn't ever needed his attention before. They had always been easy to ignore. He hadn't even noticed that he was ignoring them.

Jem put up a hand and covered Will's mouth.

"Shut up," Jem said. "You're right, you are right about all the reasons that we shouldn't do that. You are. But before you say any of them, before you tell me any of the very good reasons why I can't, I am going to do that again."

Will wasn't entirely sure that that was what he had been about to say but he was certain it wasn't that. He couldn't think of any good reasons why they needed to stop. He nodded because he wanted Jem to do it again and to hell with everything else.

This time it wasn't hard or demanding. It as softer. Will's eyes fell shut and he let himself be pulled down into it. This wasn't desire or shock. It took him a moment to place it but when he did his heart stuttered. This was how Jem had kissed Tessa after the fire. This kiss spoke of love and protection and the happiness that came from just having another person nearby. This was the kind of kiss that Will had been sure he would never truly find.

When he pulled away, his thumb stroked Will's cheek. Will smiled at him and said, "How long have you been thinking of doing that?"

"I don't know. Not long," Jem said. Jem held him easily, like they'd always been this close together. His hand had settled onto a place on Will's lower back where it simply fit. Will pushed a piece of Jem's hair away from his face and let the strands fall back through his fingers. He could feel Jem's stomach move as he breathed.

He hadn't been able to calm himself enough to accept Tessa's attempts at comforting him but this was so utterly unexpected that his anxiety hadn't caught up to what was happening. He let himself relax into the moment. This moment was too impossible to be happening and he didn't stop himself from enjoying it.

"Maybe that's not quite true. Maybe I've wanted to do that forever," Jem said cracking a smile and looking away from Will just a little, "But not in words, not in actions, it never occurred to me until you kissed my forehead on the balcony the other night. I almost kissed you then. I think I've wanted it longer than that but it just never seemed like a possibility."

"There are rules about this," Will said and the real world tugged on the edges of the moment but Jem was nuzzling his cheek as he spoke and the real world couldn't quite make it in through that feeling.

"Neither of us are really subject to them," Jem said.

"Tessa might be bothered that you are kissing other people," Will said but he couldn't find the energy to make it a true objection. He was already lost and he couldn't find his way back. He had spent so long building defenses against his feelings for Tessa but he hadn't thought to build defenses against his feelings for Jem. Now Jem was so far past his walls and it felt too much like coming home for him to want it to stop.

"Tessa kissed you first," Jem said and he kissed Will's jaw as he said it and the kiss lingered before he looked Will right in the eye and he said the next part. They were chest to chest and Will was sure his heartbeat was loud enough to echo off the walls, "You are not other people. We call you our missing piece sometimes. The same piece missing from two different lives. You aren't 'other people' Will, you're a part of us."

The door swung open and Will heard it creak. Jem stepped away from him and was suddenly Zachariah again. He stood tall and serious and raised his eyebrows at the person who had come through the door. Will was still hidden by a rack of swords and he took a little longer to reassemble himself.

"There are envoys of the Clave who would like to speak to you Brother Zachariah," the person in the door said. Will didn't both registering who it was. Jem was answering their questions and generally being the one in charge.

Down in the library they sat shoulder to shoulder, touching but not in anyway that anyone else might notice. Will was surprised to feel more grounded by the contact. The kiss hadn't brought with it any awkwardness. Will kept expecting it and it kept not coming. He was calm. Jem was here and they would manage everything else as it came, together.


End file.
